Stain of Darkness
by claymade
Summary: Justice. Honor. Destiny. Disgrace. Every fighter fights for their own reasons. But what lengths would they go to for them? What sacrifices would they make? What lines would they cross? As the darkness falls, everything may hinge on the answers.
1. The Deal

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Street Fighter in any way, shape or form. It and all associated characters, trademarks, etc. are owned by Capcom. I'm just telling some stories about them.

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**Stain of Darkness**

Chapter One: The Deal

Great Britain, March 12

The old wooden structure loomed high in the darkness, the decrepit ruin of what had once been a hotel. No glass remained in the windows; it had all been either removed by thieves or smashed by vandals. Sections of the wall had begun to fall outward, leaving gaping holes in the framework. Its rotten timbers groaned in the cold night breeze, and Antonio speculated that the next time a good stiff wind blew through this part of London it would level the place in seconds.

The short, slightly overweight American checked his watch nervously. 1:22 AM. Still eight minutes until the meeting. He slowly made his way across the street, all the while checking for anyone who might be watching him. The darkness seemed to mock his efforts, making him wish that the street had more lighting than the single, feeble streetlamp that flickered on the corner. He could see no one. Still, that wasn't too surprising considering just how far on the outskirts of the city he was.

Antonio slipped into the narrow alleyway that separated the hotel from the building next to it. He tried to hide himself in the shadows, while at the same time keeping an eye out for any sign of movement. He waited for a few more minutes, but the street remained as still and as silent as the proverbial tomb. No sign of a tail, and no sign of the representative he was supposed to meet. Probably they were already inside, waiting for him.

The man checked his watch again. 1:25. Almost time. Taking a deep breath, he turned and walked further back into the darkness of the alley. His hands groped along the wall until he found the side door his instructions had mentioned. Fumbling for the knob, he swung it open. The rusty hinges didn't screech quite as loudly as he had been afraid they would.

And with that he was in the building. The streetlamp was still his only illumination, sending its faint, bluish-white rays peeking through whatever openings it could find in the wall. Antonio made his way across the lobby, his movements disturbing the large quantities of dust that had accumulated over the years. It coated everything; the floor, the walls, the ceiling. Even the air itself was thick with it.

Pulling up the front of his shirt to cover his mouth and nose, he continued to walk until he reached the small staircase tucked into the room's far corner. When he tried to ascend it, the first step he took elicited a dreadful creaking sound from the stair. Antonio grimaced in apprehension, wishing for once that he had listened to his wife's constant harping on him to lose weight. But there was nothing for it; he continued to walk upward, hoping that the building's various parts would hold together long enough for him to make it out of this place in one piece.

Second floor, first room to the left. Those had been his instructions, and after stepping clear of the stairway he found himself looking at the dim outline of the door he had been told about. Not wasting any time, he swung it open and ducked inside.

The room, like everything else in the building, was in shambles. There were a few isolated patches of wallpaper left, pitiful scraps still clinging hopelessly to the walls. There was no furniture to be seen, or at least none that was intact, but the floor was littered with all manner of unrecognizable debris. The lighting was slightly better there, due to a large empty window that overlooked the street.

All this, however, barely registered with Antonio. His attention was locked on the figure that was standing at the window, gazing out into the night. The man had his back toward the newcomer, giving Antonio a good view of the long, thick braid of blond hair that ran down the man's muscular torso. No clothes covered the man's upper half, only winding, coiling snake tattoos.

Antonio licked his suddenly dry lips, cowed by the aura of menace that the figure emanated. Still, he was determined to hide it as best he could. "I'm here," he said shakily. "Are we going to make the deal?"

Slowly, the man turned away from the window and toward the speaker. As he did so, Antonio abandoned every intention he might have had about hiding his intimidation. The man was something out of a nightmare, his entire face obscured by a smooth white mask, one that made him look less like a man and more like some ghastly Death spirit. The only parts of his visage not so covered were the man's eyes, and one look into them made Antonio wish that they had been. They were the eyes of a killer—ruthless, intense, and completely pitiless. Those eyes bored into Antonio. Two tiny orbs of motion and life, they seemed horribly out of place in the midst of the lifeless mask.

"Give the recognition code," said the man, his voice soft and silky. As he spoke he raised his right arm, and Antonio noticed for the first time the wicked looking metal claw that was affixed there. The man held his weapon up and began to play with it slowly, letting the light from the streetlamp glitter along the blades from different angles.

"Um, ah, yeah," Antonio said, swallowing heavily, trying to make sure he got the words exactly right. "The recognition code is: Agamemnon. Equinox. Diablo." This was shaping up to be the most terrifying delivery he had ever made in his long and not-so-distinguished career. He promised himself that if they let him out of this alive, he'd never take another job for Shadowlaw again as long as he lived. No money was worth this, not even the exorbitant compensation that he had been promised for this relatively simple assignment.

"Very well," came the reply, apparently satisfied with Antonio's recitation. "I assume you have it?"

"Yeah..." answered Antonio. "Do you, uh... have my fee?"

By way of answer, the man reached back with his left hand into the shadows under the window, and drew out a briefcase. With a quick flick of the wrist he opened it, displaying its contents. "Five hundred thousand American dollars, as agreed upon."

Antonio nodded. Seeing that, the man closed the briefcase and tossed it leisurely through the air toward its intended recipient. Antonio fumbled as he caught it, but managed to get a firm grasp without letting it hit the ground. He gave the briefcase a quick pat; it was the third biggest payoff of his life, and it had taken him a mere six days to accomplish.

"Now your turn," said the Shadowlaw agent in that almost-whisper of his.

Obediently, Antonio reached into his jacket and pulled out a small black video tape. It had no labels or markings on it, nothing to indicate what its contents were or why it was worth such a sum to its buyers. "This is it," he said, offering it to the other man. "The only copy, so far as I know."

The agent said nothing, only took the tape from Antonio's hands. "Just remember," he said. "If you speak of this assignment to anyone, or relay any information you gained while performing it..."

"It won't happen," Antonio assured him vigorously.

"See that it doesn't," said the masked man. Then he raised his claw so that he was gazing at Antonio through its blades. "If you were a female, or even a male who was something approaching beautiful... I might harbor hope that you would be so foolish. But I find the killing of old, overweight men to be uninspiring. Please don't be offended."

Antonio swallowed again, his knees beginning to shake a little. _Just let me get out of here alive_, he thought. _I don't even care about the money, just let me get out of here alive and I'll never take another Shadowlaw job again._

Abruptly, the masked man turned away from Antonio, resuming his vigil at the window. "You have your payment," he said. "Leave now."

That was one order that Antonio knew he would have no objection to obeying. Giving his briefcase one more pat, he turned and scampered out of the room.

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The Shadowlaw agent waited patiently as the other man's footsteps creaked their way down the stairs, across the lower floor, out the side door and into the night. He then watched as Antonio crossed the street, smiling beneath his mask at how frantically the pudgy man ran. The reminder that he could inspire such fear was delightful. He kept watching, until finally the man passed out of sight behind another building.

Only then did he reach down into a pocket of his colorful silken pants and pull out a small phone-like device. Opening it, he pressed a button and raised it to his ear. There was a pause, then a voice came over the connection. "Do you have it?"

"Yes," the masked man replied. "The information broker has taken his payment and left. I'm ready for pickup."

"The helicopter is already en route," replied the voice. "Get to the rooftop and meet it."

"Yes, my master," said the masked man. "I understand. I will be... there... in..." his voice trailed off into silence as he felt something tugging at the edges of his mind.

"What is it?" snapped the voice. A silence. Then, "Vega, what is it? Answer me!"

But Vega's attention was elsewhere, concentrating furiously on the faint impression that he had just noticed. His eyes scoured the surrounding buildings, his every instinct keen and alert, searching for the source of his mysterious unease...

"Vega!" thundered the voice on the other end of the comm. "What is happening?"

And then in a flash, the masked man understood. "Master, it's a trap!"

At these words, all chaos promptly broke loose.

Figures dressed in bulky black combat gear began to pour out of the building across the street, converging with astonishing speed on the building he was in. It was, Vega thought, like watching insects swarming out from under a rock. "A small army of Interpol officers has just appeared at my doorstep, master," he said into the comm. "I believe they're onto me."

The voice on the other end of the connection uttered a vicious curse. "Vega, listen carefully," it snarled. "At all costs, you must prevent Interpol from obtaining that tape. Do you understand me, Vega? Hold them off until the helicopter arrives, kill as many as you can in the process, but above all I want the tape out of their hands, and into my own!"

Vega reply was a soft, dangerous laugh. "That, master, will not be a problem." With that, he terminated the connection, slid the comm back into his pocket, and prepared himself for battle.

He could hear the vermin as they came crashing in through both the side door and the main entrance. Obviously, they had abandoned all attempts at subtlety. He wondered just how Interpol had known that he had discovered their presence. Most likely they had been monitoring him with long-distance microphones, or perhaps they had simply bugged the room itself.

But that was a question for another day. Now it was time for blood.

Vega listened attentively as the the enemy made their way throughout the lower level, obviously intent on securing it. So far they were doing everything according to procedure, following their precious little regulation books with the utmost reverence. Perfect. In a matter of seconds they would make their way up the stairs and attempt to do the same on his floor. He, of course, would be waiting for them.

The masked man began to move, gliding slowly toward the stairway. In a place as old as this one it was well nigh impossible to walk without the floor creaking, even for him. So he did the next best thing. He simply timed his steps to match those of one of the loudest walkers beneath him. To the undiscerning ear, the two noises—one loud, the other as soft as humanly possible—became one, the former swallowing up the latter. Seconds later, Vega had reached the entrance to the stairway, undetected.

He crouched down, keeping well to the left of the doorway. Sure enough, within moments he could hear booted feet making their way up the rickety stairs behind the wall. In his mind's eye he could see the vermin, carefully taking step after step, their machine guns all trained on the open door that led out onto the building's second floor. They would be focused, watching for any threat to come through that door, ready to shoot it dead if it did.

Vega placed his ear against the wall, the better to hear what was going on on the other side of it. The officers seemed to have halted in their ascent, and were speaking with someone on a radio. "We've taken the stairs," one of them was saying. "No sign of any hostiles yet. We await your orders."

The reply was less distinct, but Vega was able to make it out nonetheless. A man's voice, commanding and decisive. "Proceed with the assault, Lieutenant. Take the Shadowlaw representative alive if you can, but make sure he doesn't escape."

"Yes sir!"

"And... try to wrap this up quickly, if at all possible."

"Sir?"

"Our 'uninvited guest' left for your location as soon as she heard the description of the Shadowlaw representative. She'll be there soon, and I'd prefer that the situation be resolved before she arrives. Maybe that will show the Chinese branch of the service that English Interpol can handle things on our own."

A chuckle. "Yes sir. I understand sir."

Vega smiled too, licking his lips. Well, well, well. A female Interpol officer from China, come to assist in hunting him. The possibilities that suggested were... delicious. But for the moment, his first duty was to escape back to his master. And surrounded as he was by so many ugly men wielding their ugly guns, that would require strategy.

The Interpol agents resumed their advance now, creaking their way up the stairs. Vega waited with a hunter's patience as their muffled noises passed by him, until the foremost among them had reached the door to Vega's right. The assassin's muscles tensed. They would make their play any second now... Wait for it, wait for it...

The sound of movement! A shadow shifting!

Now!

The masked assassin slammed his shoulder with all his strength into the old, decaying wall that separated the hallway from the staircase. At the same time, the lead Interpol officer lunged through the doorway out into the hall, weapon at the ready for whatever he found there. What he did not find was Vega. The Shadowlaw agent had exploded through the wall to the other side, falling on the unprepared officers in a massive shower of splintered wood and plaster.

Even before he landed, Vega was already on the attack. He buried his claw in the opposite wall of the stairway to brace himself, pushing off it to launch a double-legged kick that caught a nearby officer dead in the torso. The impact sent the man flying through the air with incredible force, flying down the stairs until he hit the next officer in line. That man was bowled over as well, starting a chain reaction that took down every officer on the stairs below Vega. The impact of their combined weight shattered any stairs they hit, sending them falling further and further down until they hit the wooden floor below. They crashed through that too, their fall only stopping when they struck the stone floor of the building's basement.

That still left three Interpol agents above him. There were two of them higher up on the stairs, as well as the one that had entered the hallway mere instants ago.

As soon as Vega's feet touched the stair his left hand shot out behind him, grabbing the gun that the nearest officer was trying to bring to bear on him. Then, whirling fast as thought, he tore his claw free of the wall and whipped it around in a vicious slash. His intention was to slice the man's head open, but the faceguard on the man's helmet saved his life. The massive blow spun the man around several times, but though the clear plastic visor cracked everywhere it did not shatter. Vega cursed to himself. This blasted armor was ruining all his fun!

Even as the man was still spinning, the agent in the hallway reached the hole that Vega had made in the wall. The assassin was impressed with the man's speed; he had been counting on having another whole second more before needing to deal with him. Now he was in a dangerous position, with one enemy further up the stairs in front of him, and another to his left.

Fortunately there was a shield conveniently in arms reach, unconscious and in the process of falling. Grabbing up the spinning man before he could hit the stairs, he pressed as close to the far wall of the stairway as he could. He then charged up the stairs, crouching and angling the man's body so that he was protected from both gunmen. Neither of them dared opened fire on their ally, and even if they had they would not have been able to penetrate the armor.

In an eyeblink he reached the last remaining agent in the stairs, colliding with the man and knocking him over. Then with a vicious stomp Vega drove him through the stairs, sending him falling the two stories to the basement below.

Vega hurried up the last couple steps to the top, still carrying the limp officer. There was no time to waste; sounds from behind him warned that more Interpol officers had entered what little remained of the stairway. They opened fire with their machine guns, the bullets chewing up the stairs and surrounding walls. But Vega was gone, vanishing through the doorway back onto the second floor, out of their sight.

The officer on the second floor, however, was not idle. As soon he saw the assassin come through the doorway the man sprang into motion. He whirled and began strafing sideways in an attempt to get around Vega's human shield and land a shot in his unprotected flank.

But the masked killer was too fast. He kicked the unconscious man away from him, sending him sailing toward the other officer. Instinctively the man shoved the oncoming body out of his way, but for that one moment his gun was not pointed at Vega. It was far more than the assassin needed.

Vega lunged, grabbing the man's gun with one hand to keep it out of play, then following through with a kick that sent then man flying half the length of the hallway. The man groaned and tried to stand up, but Vega had other plans for him. The assassin walked over, grabbed the man and lifted him up off his feet. Then he glanced back at the door he had just entered from. The timing would have have to be perfect.

Summoning all his strength, Vega swung the man up over his head like a rag doll, then with a roar flung him down as hard as he could at the floor a few feet down the hallway. The instant the man left his hands, Vega spun and leapt for the door that led to the ruined stairway. He would need every ounce of his unbelievable speed if he was to pull this off...

The Interpol officer exploded down through the ceiling into the lobby where the remainder of his team was, falling in a massive shower of broken wood and debris. As one, all the Interpol officers whirled around, their weapons tracking the falling form.

The second he heard the crash Vega was in the stairway. The stairs themselves were gone, and they would have been to slow anyway. But the railing was still there.

Vega launched himself down through space with breathtaking velocity. His feet shot out, latching onto the railing. He slid down it, his speed mounting, until an instant later he reached the bottom.

He exploded off the railing in a flying lunge, claw extended. The nearest Interpol agent never saw what hit him. The claw impacted against the side of the man's helmet, knocking him out cold and sending him flying headlong into his neighbor.

That officer whirled around, only to see the bottom of Vega's shoe slam hard into his faceplate, which in turn slammed his faceplate hard into his face. At the noise a trio of other officers next to the stairwell began to turn, but Vega caught them with a single massive slash that knocked all three to the floor, unconscious.

That left only five of them. They were spread out across the lobby, all of them now turning to aim at Vega. Laughing, the masked assassin did a quick backflip, soaring backward through the air and disappearing into the hole at the base of the stairs. The officers charged toward the hole after him, guns at the ready.

They never got there. Halfway to their target a clawed hand exploded up through the floor, fastening around the ankle of one of the officers and dragging him back down with it. For any normal human the seven foot vertical leap to the basement's ceiling would have been amazing, but for Vega it was nothing.

The officer's body smashed down through the rotten wooden floorboards to the basement, where Vega promptly flung him into the nearest wall. Then, calling on his ki, he launched himself upward in a jump that put his previous one to shame. As the four remaining officers converged on his new hole he shot up through it, a flesh-colored blur, impossible to follow. He twisted into a vicious split kick that blasted two officers in opposite directions, then slammed his elbow around into the face plate of another as he landed.

The final officer almost managed to get a bead on Vega, but the assassin rolled in under the man's aim and hit him with a flying tackle. It drove the man crashing through the ancient lobby wall and out into the alley beyond.

The man groaned as he hit the hard alley floor. He weakly tried to raise his hands, tried to fend off the masked killer kneeling over him, but it was ineffectual. Vega tore off the man's helmet, and savored the fear he saw in the eyes of his victim. Grinning, he raised his claw, ready to plunge it deep into the now-unprotected face of the officer.

But then, something extraordinary happened. Something that made the assassin forget all about the man cowering beneath him.

Vega sensed a presence. A ki aura, one so astonishingly strong that he caught his breath in shock. The impression was something like the flame of a blowtorch. Fierce. Concentrated. Focused. Almost blinding in its intensity. And it was approaching very, very fast.

Before the assassin had time to give any more consideration to what this might mean or what to do about it, his sharp hearing detected the sound of someone running toward him. Soft, rapid footfalls, reverberating strangely in the narrow alleyway. Then a figure appeared at the alley mouth, stopping as she saw Vega with his claw poised over the officer's face.

Vega's pulse began to beat faster at the sight of the newcomer. Of course... This had to be the Chinese girl he had heard the officers talking about over the radio. At the time, he hadn't thought she would be much more adept than the usual Interpol clowns. He certainly hadn't imagined that she would be anywhere near this powerful. Or this lovely.

She was slender yet muscular, her stunning figure clad in a flowing blue uniform decorated with ornate golden designs. Her brown hair was done up into two tight buns, highlighting her achingly beautiful face. But perhaps most striking was the iron determination that burned in her eyes. _I will enjoy changing that determination to fear and agony_, Vega thought. _I will savor her death more than I have savored any death in a long time_.

"Well, my little flower..." he said softly, moving his claw to point at her heart. "Shall we dance?"

The Chinese woman only smiled. It was not, Vega realized, a very nice smile.


	2. Interloper

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Street Fighter in any way, shape or form. It and all associated characters, trademarks, etc. are owned by Capcom. I'm just telling some stories about them.

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Chapter Two: Interloper

Great Britain, March 12

For a long moment all was silence, save for the ragged breathing of the Interpol officer Vega had been about to skewer. Sweat was running freely down the injured man's face, as his terrified eyes shifted from the masked assassin to the young policewoman, and back again. He knew full well how powerless he was. The confrontation playing out before him might well result in his death, but he was unable to influence its outcome in any way. The only thing he could do was remain motionless, and pray harder than he had ever prayed before.

Slowly, calmly, the Chinese woman began to walk down the alley toward them. Her steps were measured and graceful, yet even in that gently flowing gait Vega could detect power and precision lurking just beneath the surface. When she halted, it was just a few feet short of the claw that was pointed at her chest. When she spoke, it was in a quiet voice that carried an unmistakable threat in it. "Let him go. Now."

Vega glanced down at the Interpol officer at his feet, aware of the man's existence for the first time since the girl had appeared. On any other night it would have galled him to leave someone alive whose life he could have taken, but this occasion was different. His attention was consumed by this newcomer, and the officer had become nothing more than an annoying distraction.

He considered removing the pest with a swift kill, but found that idea was repulsive to him. How could he sully himself with the blood of a maggot on a night when there were angels to be slain? It would be like sleeping with a cheap harlot just before going to meet his true love. No, he would keep his claw chaste, remaining faithful to his prey for as long as she lived.

Reaching down with his left hand, he grabbed the injured man and dragged him to his feet. "Get out of my sight..." he hissed, shoving the man down the alley toward the policewoman. The man stumbled away, almost collapsing, until the Chinese woman caught him by the shoulder and managed to steady him.

"Go back to headquarters," she told him, giving his shoulder a reassuring pat. "Let them know what's happened. Have Captain Walker prepare reinforcements, but tell him not to send them in until you hear from me."

"But Chun-li, this guy—"

Chun-li shook her head, cutting the man off. "Don't worry about me, I'll be fine. This won't be the first time I've tangled with one of Bison's lackeys." Vega smiled at that. Such confidence. But at least his flower now had a name. Chun-li.

Despite her assurances, the officer still looked stricken at abandoning the young woman to face the monster that had taken out his entire team. But he nodded and began limping out of the alley, glancing back over his shoulder repeatedly as he did so. Vega waited until the man had disappeared from sight, then sighed a small sigh of relief. That was always the way of things; the imperfections were swept away, leaving the stage to the perfect.

Slowly, the policewoman slid into a fighting stance, watching her opponent intently. "I'd offer you the chance to surrender," she said. "But I think you've already demonstrated what your reply would be."

The killer laughed. "I could make a similar offer," he said, licking his lips. "You need not resist. I could make it very enjoyable for both of us, at least up until the end."

"Sorry," came her reply. "Your kind of enjoyment doesn't appeal to me."

"Yes, that's what they all think, at first..." Vega admitted, eyes searching for an opening in the woman's guard as he spoke. "But I always win them over sooner or later. There was one girl I kidnapped in Portugal... Now she was a stubborn one. It took me six days before I could get her to—"

Vega's world exploded in a flash of white. Something struck the side of his head with incredible force, flinging him across the alley into the nearby wall. Brilliant colors swam across his vision, blinding him as he backpedaled away. He swung his claw in a series of wild defensive slashes, while with his other hand he clutched desperately for his mask. An immense wash of relief swept over him as he felt it, still firmly attached where it should be, protecting his perfect visage.

Slowly the afterimages faded away, revealing the girl standing in the same place she had been before. Her leg was now cocked, knee pointed directly at Vega. And her face, calm and peaceful moments before, bore an expression of fury. The assassin eyes were wide, his mind unable to process what had just happened. _She just... kicked me,_ he realized. _She kicked me! But... I didn't even see her move!_

For the first time that night, Vega's arrogance began to show signs of eroding. But, with an effort, he forced such considerations out of his mind. _No!_ he thought. _She was lucky, nothing more! I was distracted by her beauty and by a pleasant memory. She isn't... She can't be better than I am. No woman is better than I am!_

Chun-li slowly lowered her leg to the ground, bringing her anger under control as she did so. Vega's response was to lunge forward, angling his claw in an upward slash that should have gutted the policewoman. But she lunged in as well, parrying his claw arm before it could reach its target and grabbing hold of it. Continuing with her forward motion, she spun past the charging assassin and twisted to slam her elbow into the base of his neck.

The impact sent Vega flying, but he had not flown more than a few inches before Chun-li's hand latched onto his long, braided ponytail, yanking him backward as she drove her knee into the rear of his ribcage. Vega howled as his head snapped back, the pull on his hair and the strike to his back twisting his body in opposing directions.

But the Chinese woman underestimated the assassin's ability to function through pain. No sooner had the knee slammed into his back than his left hand was already snaking up behind him. It came up under Chun-li's raised leg, trapping it—and her—in place. Then it was his claw hand's turn to strike. He twisted his arm, stabbing the blades behind him in a vicious thrust. A short cry of pain from his adversary was his reward, but he had no way of knowing how badly he had hurt her.

He pulled his claw back for a second attempt, but as he did so the girl struck him hard in the spine with two simultaneous open handed strikes, loosening his grip enough that she was able to tear her leg free. Immediately he whirled around with a wide slash, but it missed as Chun-li ducked under it, then shot back to her feet with a spin kick of her own.

Vega jumped back, the policewoman's foot missing him by mere inches. Then he had to parry desperately as she followed that up with a blindingly fast series of kicks. She was on the offensive now, her feet blurring as they mercilessly battered the masked assassin. Fake high, strike low, then high, then high again. Left leg, left leg, right leg, left leg. Power. Precision. And speed, speed, speed!

Vega's whole body was throbbing in pain, his breath coming in gasps and pants. Now he could see where his claw had caught his foe earlier, and it brought him little satisfaction. Blood was indeed seeping from three parallel cuts in her side, but she had been able to twist her body out of the way so that the stab had only sliced her in passing instead of impaling her. And though injured, she was still coming after him with a terrifying ferocity. He tried to counterattack, making a few desperate slashes at her legs as she kicked, but she avoided them with ease.

The killer continued to give ground. Far more distressing than the physical pain to him was the complete upheaval of his world, the violation of his most trusted beliefs about the natural order of things. This was a girl he was fighting! A girl! A member of the weaker sex! She should have been screaming and begging for mercy by now, but instead she was outclassing him at every turn, and there wasn't anything he could do about it!

It was beyond his comprehension, yet simultaneously undeniable. With every attack he blocked, with every attack he failed to block, he felt himself drawing nearer and nearer to total collapse. Somehow, the woman managed to keep up the vicious assault while still staying well clear of his claw. He had long since stopped trying to attack her, and instead devoted all his remaining strength and ability to simply shielding himself from the onslaught. But it was a loosing battle. He was all but beaten, and Chun-li showed no signs of slowing down.

It was then, as he feverishly searched for _something_ that he could do, that Vega heard the sound.

It was soft, at first, enough so that neither combatant consciously noticed it. But it did not remain so. Slowly and steadily the volume built, growing louder by the second. Soon it was plainly audible, then nearly deafening. It was the sound of helicopter blades, chopping their circular path through the night air.

Both he and Chun-li paused in their fight, looking upward together just as a sleek black helicopter soared over their heads. It made a tight half-circle around the roof of the abandoned hotel, the pickup point that Vega's master had specified. And with its arrival a choice was forced upon Vega, one that tore at his very soul.

The killer's mouth went dry and his stomach clenched. How could he flee the battle now? It was against everything he believed in—against every fiber of his being!—to admit that this female was his better. Regardless of the danger, regardless of his master's orders, regardless of anything in all creation, the overwhelming compulsion of his twisted psyche was to stay and fight. It was beyond desire. He felt a need, a burning, consuming need to give this woman the bloody death she deserved for even _thinking_ she could stand against a warrior so perfect as him!

But there exist other needs in humanity as well, and for Vega some of them ran even deeper than his lust, his cruelty or his ego. One such need was clawing its way to the surface now, perhaps the deepest and darkest of them all: the need to survive. In that heart-rending moment, the man who had kept such close company with death, visiting it on so many helpless victims, realized that he was afraid to die. And death was surely what awaited him if he failed his mission.

In that moment Vega abandoned his pride, along with all hopes of defeating this Interpol witch. With a strangled sob, he spun away from his opponent. And for the first time in his life, he ran like the coward he had always been.

The masked assassin plowed his shoulder into the nearby side door without breaking stride, bursting through it and into the hotel. He could hear that accursed policewoman coming up fast behind him, and he poured on every last ounce of strength and speed he possessed in his desperate attempt to keep ahead of her. Vega sprinted across the lobby, remembering just in time that the stairs between the first and second floors had been destroyed in his earlier battle. Instead, Vega jumped for the hole in the ceiling, the one he had made when he had thrown the Interpol officer down through it as a diversion.

His hands latched onto the upper edges of the opening, pulling him up through it. Immediately he ran for the stairs, glancing back over his shoulder as he did so. Naturally, he expected to see his relentless pursuer following him up through the hole behind him at any moment.

He was wrong.

_"Tenshokyaku!"_

The floor immediately in _front_ of Vega exploded as Chun-li shot up through it like a human rocket. Her feet were flashing in a blinding array of kicks, which would have beaten her opponent senseless had he not managed to dive sideways at the last instant. As it was she missed him by mere inches, as he twisted away into a roll that carried him past her and over to the stairway door.

Vega uncoiled from his improvised somersault into a leap that carried him over to the stairs leading to the third floor. He raced up them, taking them two and three at a time. Third floor, fourth floor. He could hear footsteps on the stairs beneath him. Fifth floor, sixth floor. The stairs dead-ended, but he could see a trap door in the ceiling that was undoubtedly the roof access. Almost there!

Without pausing Vega jumped toward the trap door, shredding the wood with one slash of his claw and swinging himself up through it with the other hand. When he emerged, he found himself on the flat roof of the hotel. The assassin gasped in relief. There was the helicopter, hanging ready in midair, his escape from the awful events of the night. Everything was going to be all right.

Already he was thinking of ways in which he could rationalize his inexplicable failure. It wasn't that he had been _afraid_ to fight that girl. No, of course not. He had merely _realized_ that if he had fought her then, he would not have had time to give the attention to her death that her beauty deserved. Yes! Yes, that was it. It had been out of consideration for her. Vega smiled widely. Yes... In fact, she ought to be honored by his noble gesture!

The sound of Chun-li's footsteps drawing nearer shook him out of his reverie. He dashed for the helicopter as it hovered on the far side of the roof from him, hope strengthening his legs for the final sprint. Almost there, almost there... He heard the policewoman leaping up onto the roof, but by then he was only feet away from the helicopter. Covering the remaining distance, he grabbed onto the hovering vehicle's landing gear and pulled himself up to its open door. "Go!" he screamed in at the pilot.

Obediently, the machine jerked into motion, flying out over the street. As it pulled away from the hotel, Vega turned back for one last parting look at Chun-li. He saw her standing there, on the edge of the roof, looking out at the departing helicopter with an unreadable expression on her face. Vega relaxed. He complimented himself on foiling her plans, imagining how she would go to bed that night cursing his name. He did not notice the peculiar way in which she was cupping her hands, nor the look of intense concentration that formed on her face...

_"Kikkoken!"_

Vega's eyes went wide as a blast of pure, blazing energy shot out from her palms and hurtled toward the escaping helicopter. Time seemed to freeze in that moment of helplessness, of knowing what was coming but being utterly powerless to avert it. There was only one chance, one slender chance that he had.

Just before Chun-li's fireball struck the helicopter, Vega flung himself out into space. An instant later, the Kikkoken slammed into the machine's rear fuselage with a blast that tore the vehicle almost in half and detonated the fuel tanks it carried. Vega felt the searing heat from the explosion wash over him, then howled as his back was pierced by innumerable pieces of flying shrapnel. The wind whistled around him as he fell, arms flailing, watching the street below grow closer and closer and closer...

* * *

Chun-li ran down the stairs that she had so recently been running up. Now that the immediacy of the situation had lessened, she was beginning to feel pain in her side from where Vega's claw had caught her. She clutched her wound as she ran, but knew that she could not afford to let up her pace. If Vega escaped...

If it had been any normal human who had taken the six-story fall, Chun-li wouldn't have been nearly so worried, but she refused to let herself underestimate the Spanish ninja's powers. What would be certain death for a weaker person was not necessarily so for him, and in any case she was not about to take chances on matters of such importance. This was the single biggest break in the Shadowlaw investigation yet, and she would not allow it to fall apart now.

She sped down the stairs, then when the stairs ended, jumped over to the second floor and lowered herself down through the hole her Kazan Tenshokyaku had made. Then she dashed out into the street, senses tuned for any sign of the masked killer.

He was gone.

He wasn't in the place where she had seen his body land, nor was he anywhere near it. The street looked deserted and empty, with not a soul to be seen. Slowly she began to walk down the street, gazing into every shadow, listening to every sound. The night breeze blew through her hair, playing with her bangs as it swirled around her face.

Her muscles were tense, expecting at any moment to see her enemy leaping out at her, claw slashing. She wished fervently that she had someone to watch her back, but at this point her only option was to stay alert and pray that she could spot Vega before he could sneak up behind her...

"Over here."

Chun-li whirled at the words, spoken in a raspy whisper. It was coming from one of the other side alleys, dark and shadow-filled. She took a few steps closer, and was able to discern the vague outline of a person lying there in the darkness.

It was Vega. The nearer she drew to him, the more details she could make out. He was slouched against the alley wall, neither the shadows nor his mask able to disguise how much pain he was in. Looking down at what she could see of his legs, Chun-li guessed that at least one, and probably both of them were broken. Evidently he had dragged himself into this hiding place after he had landed, but for some reason had now chosen to reveal himself.

She looked down at the lunatic's shattered body, her gaze not altogether without pity, and spoke. "Vega, I'm placing you under arrest for-"

"Please, spare me the formalities..." Vega whispered, coughing. "There's no need for it. Not for me. Not this time."

Chun-li frowned. "Your injuries aren't that bad."

Vega managed a chuckle at that. "It isn't my injuries that concern me, my little flower. I've failed my master. Surely you know what that means."

"You're going to be in Interpol custody, Vega. He won't be able to touch you there."

"Won't he?" Beneath his mask, Vega raised an eyebrow. "My beauty, you have yet to learn the full scope of what my master is capable of. Whereas I..." Vega broke into another fit of coughing before continuing. "I know full well the power he has. And if that were not enough, I know the power he stands poised to gain. Soon, there will be no place in the world safe from him."

A chill crept up Chun-li's spine at those words, but she ignored it. Instead, she spoke. "Is that what this tape you bought is about?"

"Oh, but that would be telling..." Vega lifted one of his fingers and moved it from side to side in a weak scolding motion. "Not very honorable to stab one's master in the back like that, wouldn't you agree? A conscientious man like myself could never do such a thing. Now if only you could see the tape for yourself, that might give you some insight. But unfortunately, you're too late."

"What?" Vega's statement hit Chun-li square in the chest. "What do you mean?"

"Someone has beaten you to the prize," replied the assassin. "I no longer possess what you seek. You took too long coming down those stairs, my little flower..."

"Who took it?" demanded Chun-li angrily. "Someone from Shadowlaw?"

"Hardly..." answered Vega. "Think logically now, my dear. If I had succeeded in getting the tape to my master's hands, then I would not have failed him. If I had succeeded in getting the tape to my master's hands..." —as he spoke, the killer began to painfully raise his claw— "...I would not be forced to do... _this!_"

Chun-li lunged toward him, trying to stop the maniac. She was too late; the claw slashed downward, finding its final resting place in the body of its master.

Vega's eyes blinked rapidly, his consciousness fading fast. But even through the pain and the loss of blood, he managed to lift his other hand up to the back his head. Slowly and clumsily he struggled to undo the bindings on his mask, succeeding after a prolonged effort. The mask tumbled down off of his face, clattering onto the cement beneath him. "I... forgot... to ask you..." he choked out, barely intelligible. "The mask's... protection... is not perfect... My face... The fall... Is it... all right?" The killer looked up at Chun-li, who looked back with eyes that showed no sign of what was going on behind them.

She was looking at a man whose career she had become intimately familiar with. She knew, perhaps better than anyone else, the full extent of the misery he had caused to countless victims and their families. She had longed for the chance to bring him to justice, and now he lay there, seconds away from death and the ultimate justice that lay beyond it.

And at the same time, she saw him for who he was. A twisted, shallow wreck of a man, his body at last mirroring the condition that his soul had been in for many long years. He was a wretched, dying ruin, his mind consumed and destroyed by the very vices that he was so enamored of. She had expected to feel anger in this situation, but as she looked down on him, the only emotions that she could muster up were pity and disgust.

"P-please..." gasped Vega, eyes loosing their focus. "Tell... me... My face..."

In the shadows where the killer lay, Chun-li could only see vague outlines of shapes, no fine details. She had no way of knowing the condition of Vega's face, and in a sense, it was irrelevant. She had to make a decision, and she couldn't debate it any longer.

"Your face is fine," she told him quietly. "It wasn't injured."

Vega let out a sigh, an unseen smile crossing his face. "Perfect... to the very end..." he said. Then he relaxed as death claimed him.

Chun-li simply stood there for a moment, before going down on one knee and searching the dead man's body. She rifled through every pocket she could find, then glanced at the surrounding area to see if he might have thrown the tape away from him. Her search was fruitless; even if the tape was somewhere in the shadows, it was too dark to spot it. And, while she and her Interpol colleagues would certainly take the entire vicinity apart in their search for the tape, she knew deep in her gut that Vega had been telling the truth. Someone else had the tape now. Not Interpol, nor Shadowlaw, but rather some unknown interloper.

The policewoman sighed tiredly, the pain in her side beginning to make its presence felt again. What did it all mean? Who on earth had taken the tape, and what was so important about it that everyone wanted it so badly? Too many questions, and with the disappearance of her only lead, no prospect of answers anytime soon.

She was about to stand and go when she noticed something she had missed in her cursory inspection moments earlier. There was something lying on the ground. It was paper-like, pure white, yet all but impossible to see in the darkness. Even from her kneeling position, Chun-li could barely make it out. It lay at Vega's feet, as though it had been dropped there. She reached out and took it, carrying it out of the shadows and into the relative brilliance of the streetlamp. It was then that she was able to make out what she was holding.

It was a tarot card. The card of Judgment.

* * *

Hours later, Antonio sat miserably in the private cell he had been placed in, wondering how things could have gone so wrong. All the lights had been turned off, bathing his surroundings in total darkness. Supposedly this was to allow him to sleep, but he knew he would get none of that tonight. He sat hunched over on the edge of his bunk, wringing his hands in fear.

Already, the events that had taken place earlier that night seemed like a lifetime ago. He had not made it more than three blocks from the old hotel before a pair of men dressed all in black had stopped him at gunpoint, telling him he was under arrest. They had listed an impressive array of offenses that he was charged with, all of them couched in legal double-speak, but the basic gist had been that he was an errand boy for one of the most brutal criminal organizations on the planet. And with that he had ended up here, sitting in this cell, waiting for them to do whatever it was they were going to do with him.

The dark seemed to crowd in around him. His mind knew that he was surrounded by cement walls on three sides, and the bars of the cell on the remaining one, but in the utter lack of light his imagination began to play cruel games. He knew his surroundings were real, but he could not _feel_ it. To him it seemed as though he were lost in a dark void of nothingness, a vacuum with no borders, no boundaries, nothing and no one except himself. His hands began to shake, wondering how long he would have to endure this until the morning came. Time seemed to lose all meaning in that silent, lightless world.

Overwhelmed by his worries and self-recriminations for ever taking this job, he almost didn't hear the soft whisper of sound from the center of the cell. It was like the sound of a breeze, a tiny swishing noise, fading away into nothingness almost before it began. It was so minor, so inconsequential, and yet it changed something. There was something different now, something in the atmosphere of the room that seemed tainted, poisoned.

It was then that memories began to flood back into Antonio's mind, old memories of horror stories, read under the covers at night or told around a campfire. He felt the childhood fears rising in him, fears of the ghosts, the boogeymen, the monsters waiting and lurking in the shadows... You knew that if you dared to venture away from the fire, if you went out into the darkness, then "they" would get you.

Except that this time there was no fire, no island of safety. It was just him, alone and defenseless against all the terrors that his mind could conjure up for him. He took a deep breath and held it, trying to convince himself that this was nothing but a result of his strained nerves—

—and then he froze. He froze in horror, every muscle in his body clenching with unbearable tightness. His heart seemed to stop in his chest, and his mouth opened in a silent scream. Because, even when he had been holding the breath in, he could still hear the quiet sound of breathing in the cell. Breathing that was not his own.

He could hear it even now: in and out, in and out. There was something in there with him. What it was, he did not know. How it had gotten there, he could not guess. But he knew, knew beyond a shadow of a doubt, that whatever it was, it had come for him.

"So you are Antonio," a deep voice boomed in the darkness.

Now Antonio did try to scream. He tried to force air through his paralyzed vocal cords, tried to cry for help, tried to do _something_. But before he could he felt an iron hand slam into his throat, grabbing him by it and lifting him bodily off of his bunk. The scream was trapped, coming out only as a strangled wheeze.

"Very unprofessional of you to allow yourself to be caught like this," the voice continued. "I am most disappointed in you, especially after the glowing assurances you gave my organization about your ability."

"You're... from Shadowlaw?" the information broker managed to gasp, his legs twisting and flailing in the empty air beneath him.

The voice laughed. "I _am_ Shadowlaw, you pathetic worm. Tonight's unbelievable catastrophe has forced me to take a personal hand in this situation, something that I truly despise having to do."

"What... do you want from me?" Antonio choked out. "I already... gave you the tape!"

"Perhaps," agreed the voice. "But now it has passed out of my possession. Nevertheless, I need the information it holds, and I _will_ obtain it."

"But I can't give it to you!" was Antonio's pleading reply. "The one I gave you was the master copy, the _only_ copy! That... that was one of the conditions of our deal!" He gasped desperately for more air than the fraction that was making it into his lungs. "Please... you have to believe me, there aren't any other copies!"

"No..." the voice rumbled. "That is not quite true. One other copy does exist."

"Wh... what? Another copy?"

"Yes. You yourself would have to have watched this tape, to see if it was in fact what you were hired to find. Am I correct?"

Antonio said nothing, but the look in his eyes was answer enough. The voice continued. "That means the information still exists inside your mind. And, imperfect container though that is, it is the only one available to me."

"My... mind?" Antonio managed to say. "I... I'll tell you anything I can remember, anything at all, but..."

"Not good enough," said the voice, and as it did so, the darkness was broken by two points of weird purple light. Antonio stared at them in horrified fascination as their glow increased, until he at last understood what they were. They were a pair of eyes, burning with an unearthly radiance, staring right into his soul.

Antonio arched his back in agony, the hand around his throat tightening to cut off his cries and pleas. The pain was unimaginable, as his thoughts were torn from his consciousness by a force unlike any he could have imagined. His limbs thrashed wildly, trying to escape the liquid fire that was shooting through every nerve in his body. It felt like a trillion serrated knives, gouging and tearing away at his mind all at once. He could not speak, could not fight back, could not escape, could not do anything but sob in his own thoughts: _Make it stop! Make it stop! Please, make it stop!_

And then the torture ended. "Interesting..." mused the voice. "_Very_ interesting..."

Antonio could do nothing except shudder and convulse in the aftereffects of the experience. Slowly and gradually, coherent thought began to return, until he could begin to speak again. "Please..." he whispered, barely audible. "No more... Please..."

"No, that won't be necessary," the voice agreed. "I have already learned everything I need to know from you." At these words, Antonio sagged in relief. Maybe now it would finally be over.

"However..." the voice went on. "There remains the problem of your imprisonment here. If Interpol is able to pry this same information out of you, it could complicate my plans severely. I cannot take the chance on allowing you to remain in their custody."

The information broker shook his head dazedly from side, trying to clear it. "You mean... you're going to help me escape from here?" he asked, hopefully.

The voice laughed. "In a manner of speaking."

* * *

The terrible scream echoed throughout the cell block and beyond, chilling everyone who heard it to the bone. Immediately, there was a massive stampede as all the guards on duty converged on that spot. It only took them moments to discover that the inhuman noise had come from the cell of the man they had just brought in earlier that night.

Soon the lights in the cell block were on, guards running down the hallway past other cells, ignoring the demands of other prisoners to know what was going on. In the space of a few seconds, they arrived at Antonio's cell.

The door was still shut and locked, just as it had been ever since they first put their prisoner behind it. There were no signs of a forced entry anywhere, no place that anyone could have gone in or out by.

And yet the cell was empty. Empty, except for the bunk that hung from one wall, the sink that was positioned by another, and the charred human skeleton which lay sprawled out on the floor.


	3. Vendettas

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Street Fighter in any way, shape or form. It and all associated characters, trademarks, etc. are owned by Capcom. I'm just telling some stories about them.

* * *

Chapter Three: Vendettas

Thailand, March 12

The giant sat, legs crossed, in the center of the training area, his one good eye closed in meditation. Six candles had been set out in a symmetrical pattern around him, the only source of light. Their flame bathed the room in a soft orange glow, creating a peaceful atmosphere that belied the turbulent thoughts of the man who had lit them.

Sagat sat there, unmoving, his brow furrowed in a look of intense concentration. His fists were clenched, resting on the ground at his sides. His breath was coming quick yet regular, hissing in and out through clenched teeth. He could feel anger burning within him, a consuming fire that had become dearer to him than the air he breathed. Each day he meditated, trying as best he could to feed that dark inferno, to keep it alive. Each day, he forced himself to relive the memories again and again.

It had been two years since that day, and yet the details had lost none of their vividity for him. The heat. The roar of the crowd. The salty taste of sweat mingled with blood. He allowed the images and sensations to wash over him, loosing himself in the remembrance of his last fight as Grand Champion of the Street Fighter tournament. The fight where Ryu had taken it all away from him.

He relived it all, every strike and sidestep, every block and counterattack. It was all seared into his soul, all leading inexorably to the final, terrible image: his opponent exploding off the ground, fist upraised, tearing into him. Then, darkness. Darkness and loss.

Rage boiled in Sagat's veins, just as it always did when he performed that exercise. It was all he had left now. Rage had sustained him, allowing him to bear up under the shame and humiliation of loosing to an eighteen year-old boy. Rage had given him the strength to weather the insults and the scorn of his countrymen, disgraced by their one-time hero's defeat. Rage had befriended him when all others had turned against him, giving him purpose when his life had fallen apart. And rage had led him here.

To Shadowlaw.

Sagat rose to his feet, his desire for meditation abruptly quenched. The choice had seemed so clear to him at the time. Shadowlaw had the resources to track Ryu down, a feat that Sagat had been attempting for the better part of a year without success. In return for that, the largest criminal organization on the planet wanted his services. He had agreed without a second thought. What did he care if that was dishonorable? Hadn't his honor already been destroyed by his unforgivable loss? He was disgraced, completely and utterly. And that meant he had nothing more to lose.

That had been his rationale at the time. Now, though...

Sagat's hand clutched reflexively at his chest, his fingers tracing the long, jagged scar he bore there. The action was a reminder—a reminder of his purpose—intended to strengthen his resolve. As such, it worked tolerably well. If it did not silence all his doubts, it at least drowned them in a flood of the hatred to which he had grown so accustomed. No. He could not turn back now; he had gone too far. The die was cast. Come death or damnation, he would have his vengeance.

Slowly he turned, facing a figure that was standing off in the shadows, just outside the flickering candlelight. She had been there for hours, all throughout his workout and subsequent meditation, absolutely motionless, waiting for Sagat's command. He gave it. "I'm ready."

Obediently, the figure came forward. As she stepped out of the darkness, her form was revealed: a girl, short brown hair framing her startlingly young features. Doll 07. The one called Juli.

A cold, hard knot settled in Sagat's stomach as he watched her approach. No matter how many times he came in contact with Bison's Dolls, he would never accustom himself to the experience. He scrutinized her as she drew nearer, hopelessly searching her face for a glimmer of the personality he knew he would not find. Her face was blank, showing neither interest nor concern; her eyes were lusterless, sapped of all life and will.

_Bison likely has to give her direct orders to keep on breathing,_ Sagat thought grimly. _She would have no other motivation for doing so._

The giant gave a brief, respectful bow to his opponent, an action that did not elicit any response. Then he took a step backward, dropping into a loose fighting stance. In response, the girl did the same. Slowly, she began to circle the Muay Thai master. Sagat held his position, watching her, trying to read what her strategy was going to be. It was difficult; Bison had trained her well.

To most any observer, the contest would have seemed nothing short of absurd. Sagat towered over his young adversary, a hulking mountain of finely-tuned muscle. The black eyepatch that covered his right eye gave him a deadly aspect, as did the long, jagged scar that stretched across his chest. He was a fearsome figure, one that looked completely out of place pitted against such a slender, delicate-looking girl.

Sagat, however, knew what Bison's Dolls were capable of.

When she attacked, it was without warning. Juli charged at him, firing a furious barrage of punches at his torso. Sagat met her charge, the two combatants crashing together with an impact that sent the lighter Juli flying backward several paces. The girl managed to stay upright, however, and when Sagat tried to push his advantage by continuing to chase her she was able to twist into a spin kick that would have caught him in the head had he not parried it at the last minute.

The sheer force of the kick was incredible, sending a shock through Sagat's entire body. He winced. _Remember_, he cautioned himself. _Bison has augmented almost everything about them; they're stronger than they look. Stronger than anyone that size has a right to be._

But Sagat kept up the pressure, striking back at his opponent with staggering rapidity. No sooner had Juli's leg deflected off his forearm than he lunged in at her with an elbow strike aimed at her solar plexus. She managed to block it, but already his other arm was coming in with an elbow to her head. She blocked that too—just barely—only to have him follow that up with a knee to her chest. Juli backpedaled away, obviously realizing the folly of engaging the Muay Thai master at close range.

He continued the chase, taking a running leap toward her and launching an aerial kick at her head. Instead of trying to block it Juli rolled beneath it, ending up behind Sagat as he landed. Seeing the perfect opportunity, she spun and punched at her opponent's unprotected back with all her strength.

Unfortunately, Sagat was ready. Without turning around, he fired a kick directly behind him that caught the charging Doll flat-footed, sliding beneath her too-late attempt at a block and straight into her rib cage. Not hard enough to shatter bone, not even hard enough to cause any lasting hurt. It was perfectly controlled, just enough to knock her off her feet.

Hardly had she hit the wooden floorboards of the training area than she was up again, shooting to her feet with a quick kippup. She began to circle him again, warier now than before. Every so often they would prod each other, making small attacks to get a feel for their foe's reactions. Juli was like a viper, tense, full of coiled speed and energy, ready at a moment's notice to strike with blinding speed. Sagat, by contrast, was like a great tiger only half-aroused from a nap, batting lazily at an impudent cub.

Suddenly Juli made her move, coming in low with a leg sweep that Sagat was hard pressed to avoid. He lifted his forward leg allowing her sweep to pass harmlessly underneath. But for that one moment, Sagat was balanced on only one leg, reducing his mobility drastically. Juli took advantage of it.

"_Sniping Arrow!_"

From her position on the ground Juli exploded upward, shooting toward her opponent as though fired from a cannon. Sagat felt the burst of ki that had propelled her, the dark, corrupted Psycho Power that Bison had taught all the Dolls how to utilize. Leg outstretched, she slammed into him with the force of a charging bull. And, though he had just enough time to block it, the immense force of the blow still flung his massive frame all the way across the room. He hit the far wall with a grunt, the wooden boards buckling under the impact. Juli was certainly not pulling her punches.

Shaking himself off, Sagat charged back into the fray, a grim smile on his face. The Dolls were his favorite sparring partners, among the very few fighters that could give him a challenge anymore. He began to attack in earnest now, arms and legs blurring as he rained down strikes on his opponent.

She did not disappoint him. Rising to the challenge, she matched him blow for blow, parry for parry. They moved back and forth, dancing in and out of each other's range, twisting, sidestepping, kicking, blocking. For Sagat the moment was perfect. He lost himself to the fight, leaving behind all doubts and contradictions and conflicted emotions. No thoughts clouded his mind, only the instinctive reactions drilled into him by a lifetime of training.

Minute after minute passed, with no break in the contest's furious pace. It was immaterial; for Sagat time held no significance. Neither did weariness or pain; they were simply weaknesses that he had ceaselessly labored to exterminate from his being. The fight was what mattered, the battle, the struggle. To him, the entire world consisted only of him and his opponent.

His opponent, however, was rapidly running out of steam. Under Sagat's sustained, withering assault, Juli was having greater and greater difficulty keeping up. Her breath was coming in pants now, and she was drenched in sweat. She pushed doggedly on, but her movements were becoming more sluggish and imprecise while Sagat's intensity was only increasing. Then she made a mistake.

The kick, aimed at Sagat's head, was a little too high and a little too slow. Sagat ducked underneath it, his arm simultaneously lashing out for Juli's standing leg, grabbing her at the ankle and flinging her into a crazy, end-over-end spin that deposited her on the floor with a loud thud.

Slowly, the Doll struggled to her feet once more. She was obviously spent, exhausted beyond all endurance, yet still determined to continue the fight for as long as her master wished. As the giant watched she began to come at him again, half-walking, half-staggering. Her breath was coming in gasps now; the fall seemed to have winded her. _She must be even more tired than I realized if she wasn't able to make a proper landing_, Sagat thought. _Time to end it._

He held out his hand. "Enough," he said.

Immediately, Juli stepped backward to stand at attention, arms crossed behind her back, eyes locked blindly in front of her. Her hair was disheveled and her breath was still coming in shudders. Yet not once did she betray any hint of emotion; her eyes were still as dull and detached as they had been at the beginning. And as she regained her composure, calming her breathing, even that one small hint of human weakness was once again hidden. She stood there, ready, waiting, a tool for her masters' uses, a plaything for their whims. A doll indeed.

Sagat gave her another bow, knowing it was a wasted gesture. Still, he felt compelled to offer the poor wretch at least a little dignity, even if it would not be appreciated or understood. "Thank you for the match," he said quietly. "You may go."

She did not respond.

Sagat waited, watching the girl intently, waiting as second after second ticked by. He frowned. Something was wrong. The Dolls had always obeyed immediately whenever he had given them a command, and yet now this one was ignoring him, staring off at nothing as though she hadn't even heard his order. But why?

And then his answer came, permeating the room like a sickening cloud of gaseous death. It was a presence, a malevolent fist clenching around his soul, crushing at his spirit. Sagat's eye narrowed as he braced his will against the onslaught, resolving not to let himself be humbled by the dark entity's might. Now he understood. Bison was watching them.

Sagat could feel the madman's corrupt power coursing around him, no less potent for that it was disembodied. At first it filled the entire training area with its oppressive weight. Soon, though, it began to coalesce, gathering itself into a single locus of festering decay right where Juli stood.

It was then that Sagat saw a change taking place in the features of the brown-haired Doll. At first it was simply a twitch of the mouth, almost unnoticeable. Then, slowly and gradually, the corners of her lips pulled back as though unseen hands were contorting her visage. Sagat felt his skin crawl. She was smiling. And her smile was one he recognized all too well.

A rasping chuckle escaped Juli's throat. "It never ceases to amaze me, Sagat, how gently you treat these females..."

Sagat kept his face even. "They're your servants, Bison," he rumbled calmly. "Would you prefer I kill and cripple your best fighters?"

"Keeping them intact is one matter..." replied Bison's mouthpiece, her youthful voice terribly at odds with the madman's speech. "But the delicacy with which you treat them is nothing short of absurd. _Pain_ does not impair their usefulness to me. Only structural damage."

"A warrior is nothing without control."

Juli's eyes flashed. "Perhaps... But to me your 'control' sounds like an excuse for the weakness of compassion..." Bison let that statement hang in the air for a moment, before shrugging Juli's shoulders. "But you may do as you wish. If you choose to hobble yourself with the pathetic tatters of your former honor, I will permit you your folly. Indeed,"—and Juli licked her lips with these words—"I find it curiously amusing to watch you flounder in it."

There were a multitude of angry responses that Sagat wanted to hurl at his employer in return, but he bit them all back. Instead, he changed the subject. "Was your trip to London successful?"

"Yes..." the word hissed from Juli's throat, a display of reptilian satisfaction. "Very much so... The pieces are all in my grasp now. It remains only to connect them."

"And what will my part be?" asked Sagat. "That is what you've come to tell me, isn't it? Or did you put on this display simply to demonstrate your skills as a puppeteer?"

The Doll laughed. "The purpose of this 'display', my ever-impatient servant, is to inform you that I am en route to the main base as we speak. I will expect to find you there when I arrive."

Annoyed at his employer's secrecy, Sagat nevertheless nodded. "As you say."

The mad gleam in Juli's eyes intensified for a brief moment. "Don't worry, Sagat... The time for action will come soon. Very, very soon." With a final laugh Bison's presence began to dissipate, leaving its temporary host to return to its more permanent home. Sagat fancied he could still hear it laughing as it left, noncoporeal, but laughing even so.

Sagat watched as Juli's features returned to their normal blank stare, still shaken by what he had witnessed. Possession... The complete violation of the Doll's very being, the rape of her soul. She, of course, would not show any reaction to what had just happened to her. Bison would not permit it. She was his, the crushed remnants of her spirit locked away in the prison of her own mind.

A sudden fury welled up inside of him. _What kind of a monster would use children in such a way?_

The question echoed through his mind, stoking and stirring his anger. But in those echoes Sagat could hear whispers of another question, one that he did not want to answer.

What kind of a monster would ally himself with such a monster?

Sagat turned away, his thoughts dark and brooding. He paced to the room's exit, clutching at the scar on his chest as he did so, calling once again on his rage to keep his doubts at bay. It was something he'd had a great deal of practice at lately.

* * *

Great Britain, March 12

The reigning spirit at London's Interpol Headquarters was one of barely controlled chaos. Papers were everywhere; changing hands, spread out on tables, moving in and out of file cabinets. Every so often a clerk would rush in with another armful of printouts from the data sifters downstairs, and without fail he was immediately descended on by at least half a dozen detectives. Within moments they would have every last piece of it parceled out to the various groups, dividing them according to the task of each. Everyone was talking at once, filling the air with a jumbled cacophony of noise as each person expounded his own theory to his neighbors.

Longingly, Chun-li watched the commotion from behind the glass confines of Captain Walker's office. It was so tempting. More than anything else she wanted to be out there, in the middle of things, taking action. Soundproofing erased all noise from the outside, but if she focused she could still follow most of the conversations simply by lip-reading. _It looks like they're just as lost out there as we are in here..._ she thought. _And there's small surprise at that._

She turned away from the window, back to the meeting, hoping that her quick indulgence had gone unnoticed by the other participants. It had not. Several of the other inspectors were looking at her, but their expressions were ones of sympathy and understanding. They knew the frustration she felt; they were certainly feeling it as well. But much though they might desire to jump into the investigation first-hand, they all knew the necessity of planning and coordination. And so Chun-li re-focused her attention, bringing all her thoughts to bear on the problem at hand.

What had happened to the tape?

Once more she returned to the brick wall that they had all been slamming their collective heads into for the past four hours. No end was in sight either; if anything the barrier looked larger and more intimidating than before. The tape was gone, gone without a trace, and the only clue to the thief's identity made no sense. A tarot card. Why a tarot card? What did it mean?

"Are we really sure that there are no criminal groups that use tarot cards as their symbols?" asked one of the lieutenants. "What about cross-checking it against overseas groups? Given Shadowlaw's international nature, they'd certainly have enemies not native to these shores."

"Well, we are investigating the possibility," replied another. "But we're not holding out too much hope. It could theoretically be one of the smaller outfits, local to some foreign country somewhere. But remember, to find out about that meeting, whoever it was had to crack the tightest level of Shadowlaw security we've ever seen. That doesn't sound like a local outfit to me. That sounds like a big player, and if we don't know about them I'd be surprised if anyone else does."

"What about vigilante groups? Are we checking those as well?"

"Yes, but we're coming up dry there too."

"Maybe it's not a group. Maybe it's just a single per— oh, wait, that has the same problem as the local groups, doesn't it?"

"Right. But I've got a team checking into it just the same."

"Here's a suggestion," a voice spoke up from farther down the table. "Maybe we're looking at this from the wrong angle." Chun-li glanced over there, interested. New angles were good things, especially when stuck as profoundly as they were.

The speaker was Inspector Craig, a stocky, middle aged man with short grey hair and a clipped style of speech. "We're too focused on the immediate details," he continued. "Such as what we have at the scene that points to our tape thief. What if we worked in the other direction? Started back from what we know about the tape already, and tried to use that to determine who'd be interested in grabbing it?"

Heads nodded in assent around the table. "It certainly has as much promise as anything at this point," agreed the team leader, Captain Walker. "Chun-li, you're probably the best qualified for such an examination; why don't you review for what we've learned about Bison's motives in acquiring it?"

Chun-li nodded, steepling her fingers as she thought through the best way to present the information. "Inspector Craig's idea is definitely a good one," she said carefully. "But as many of you are already aware, we know almost as little on that front as we do on this one."

She took a deep breath and plunged in. "For quite a while now, Beijing has known that Bison was planning... well, something. Something big. And if past experience is any guide, the results will be very, very lethal."

No one said anything in response, but Chun-li could tell they were all thinking of the Colombian incident. Three whole Interpol strike teams, systematically slaughtered by a pair of girls no more than sixteen years old. Since then, nobody in Interpol had needed any reminders of how much damage Bison's pet projects could cause.

"What we do know is that he has been mobilizing his forces around the globe in connection with this effort, throwing immense resources at it. And yet, at the same time, the secrecy surrounding it has been so extreme that we've heard only the vaguest, contradictory rumors as to what it could be. Everyone back in the Chinese office has their own theory as to what he's doing, everything from building up a nuclear arsenal to looking for the Ark of the Covenant. But whatever it is, he's dead serious about it, and that means we have to be as well."

"Three days ago, we got a break. A once-in-a-lifetime break. In spite of all Bison's precautions, one of our informants managed to obtain some information and slip it to us. According to him, Bison was sending an agent to London in order to purchase information key to his scheme."

"It was an unbelievable stroke of luck for us. We knew that if we could stop the transfer, if we could keep him from getting that information, we could not only cripple his efforts but also gain invaluable insight into just what he was up to. Beijing immediately alerted your office, and sent me to act as advisor to the operation."

Captain Walker nodded. "And it's very fortunate that they did send you," he admitted honestly. "Otherwise, we wouldn't have had a prayer of handling Vega." Chun-li warmed at the compliment, more than anything else for the acceptance it showed. They saw her as an ally now—not an intruder, as they had on her arrival—and the change was a small bit of joy in an otherwise bleak horizon.

"Thank you, sir," she said, bowing her head gracefully. "There isn't much else I can say; all of you know the results of the past few hours as well as I do. We've lost the tape, and apparently, so has Bison. The one person who knew what was on it is dead, murdered in the middle of our own prison, and we have no idea who or what the killer was. We don't know who took the tape, we don't know why they took it, and we don't know where they are now. No clues. No suspects. Nothing. For all we know, it vanished into thin air."

Everyone around the table was silent, futility hanging in the air like a tangible object. They all knew that Chun-li's blunt assessment was the correct one, eloquently summing up the past four hours worth of debate, discussion and brainstorming. Barring some new discovery by the detectives working the case, they simply didn't have enough to go on.

Captain Walker sighed, his face suddenly looking much older than his forty-three years. "Well then, I suppose the only thing to do is to adjourn. If any of you can come up with any leads... any ideas... any angles you think might give us a chance at getting back in the game..." his voice drifted off, and he did not finish the sentence. "But otherwise, get some sleep. I know all of you worked yourselves to the bone getting that bust set up. Maybe a little rest will help us see something we've missed." He did not sound hopeful.

Chun-li rose to her feet, admidst a chorus of "yes sirs" and "thank you sirs", one of which was her own. But truth be told, she didn't know how she was going to get any sleep whatsoever tonight. The sheer magnitude of the opportunity that they—no, she—had just missed loomed before her. _If only I'd been faster. If only I'd stopped Vega before he reached the helicopter. If only I'd sensed who it was that stole the tape. If only, if only, if only..._

Stifling a sigh, she meandered her way out of the office. She wasn't quite sure where she was going, nor did she particularly care. She needed to think, and yet at the same time thinking was the last thing she wanted to do right now. She knew that she would feel better if she would only get some sleep, but somehow she found she didn't much want to feel better either.

She had blown it. She had lost her chance to throw a wrench into whatever demented plan Bison was enacting, and now his power would increase rather than diminish. Because of her failure, more time would pass before the madman could be brought down. Because of her failure, more policemen would have to die in the line of duty.

Because of her failure, more little girls would have to grow up without their fathers...

Leaning all her weight against a nearby wall, she bit her lip and willed the tears not to come. She was so tired... Over the last three days she had gotten perhaps five or six hours of sleep, but that was the least of it. She was tired of fighting, tired of the endless hunt, tired of Bison always managing to stay one step ahead of her. It was like trying to kill a hydra; for each head that Interpol managed to crush, two sprang up to take its place. She was tired of battling the near-limitless resources of Shadowlaw on an increasingly shoestring budget, tired of trading the blood of her friends for whatever paltry victories they managed to attain, tired of seeing those victories made meaningless days later.

"He's winning, father..." whispered Chun-li. "No matter what I do, he keeps on winning..."

Guilt and self-recrimination gnawed away at her, and sleep-deprivation made her an easy target. The wound Vega had given her, hastily bandaged by the medics, was throbbing with pain. She didn't know what on earth she was supposed to do now, but she was pretty confident that at the moment she wasn't doing it.

"Um, Miss... Li?" came a voice behind her, sounding nervous at the interruption.

The policewoman whirled around at the sound of her name, looking for the person who had spoken. It was a young man, one of the aides that the office employed on a temporary basis. Chun-li sized him up. Longish brown hair. Blue eyes. An earnest face, although somewhat skittish at the moment. She decided she liked the kid. "What is it?" she asked, trying to put him at ease by giving him a friendly smile that she did not feel.

It worked. The aide's expression brightened immediately. "I've, uh, got a message that I'm supposed to deliver to you," he told her, offering a small folded note. Chun-li took it in hand, noting with surprise that the paper was of the highest quality. Soft, textured, with a faint scent still lingering on it. This was no inter-office memorandum. Intrigued, the young woman unfolded it and glanced at what was written there. Her heart stopped dead at what she saw.

_My Dear Inspector,_

_You do not know me, although I have heard of you by reputation and have wanted to meet you for some time. Circumstances, however, have prevented that, and indeed have required me to take action that you most likely view as interfering in your affairs. I do sincerely apologize for whatever trouble I may have caused you, and in my defense I can only say that I did what I did because I felt it was the best choice at the time._

_Unfortunately for me, I have since stumbled upon a problem that has put me in a rather awkward position. To put the matter bluntly, I need your help. I realize that you may be skeptical of this request, but I assure you that our goals are the same. The monster you hunt is my quarry as well._

_If you wish to discuss this matter, it would be best if we met together on neutral ground. Leave the building immediately and head south until you are three miles outside the city. I will find you there. Bring no one with you. I will bring the tape. Hopefully, we will be able to reach an understanding in time to avert whatever evil our mutual foe has planned._

The letter was unsigned, except for a small, decorative image of a rose that had been drawn into the lower right corner.

Chun-li's hands began to tremble. If this were a joke... But no, her instinct told her otherwise. No officer would be foolish enough to jeopardize their career by putting classified material to such a misuse. Her head shot up. "Where did you get this? Who gave it to you?" she demanded.

But the aide was gone, vanished as though he had never been there.

For a long, stunned moment Chun-li simply stood there, the note clutched limply in her hand as the world spun in crazy loops around her. But one thing drowned out all else; she had another chance. It wasn't too late.

She read the note again. "Bring no one with you," it had said. Under any other circumstances, she might have been tempted to go against the order and sneak in some backup, but not here. Not now. Not with so much at stake. She would go alone, and if it was a trap, then so be it. She had walked into traps before.

But if it was legitimate...

The thought spurred her to action, sending adrenaline pumping through her system. Turning, she sprinted for the stairs that led down to the Interpol garage.


	4. Fates Converging

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Street Fighter in any way, shape or form. It and all associated characters, trademarks, etc. are owned by Capcom. I'm just telling some stories about them.

* * *

Chapter Four: Fates Converging

Thailand, March 12

Sagat stood alone, arms crossed, in the cavernous underground hangar. As usual, his appearance betrayed no sign of what he was thinking. His monolithic form had not moved from that spot since he had begun his vigil over a half hour ago, nor had he once changed expression. He was a patient man—if not by nature, then at least by long practice. He would wait as long as he needed to.

Scattered around him were well over a dozen different aircraft, the state of the art in aerial speed and firepower. Long range strike fighters, assault helicopters, spy planes; they were the best that Shadowlaw's nearly bottomless resources could procure. Sagat had noted the impressive display in passing, given it some small measure of consideration, and then had proceeded to ignore it as inconsequential. Deadly though they might be, these machines were little more than trappings, playthings for the being who was the true power of the criminal organization. It was these matters that dominated Sagat's mind, as he waited for his employer to make his appearance.

And he knew he would not have to wait much longer. Already he could feel the dark presence, distant but unmistakable, and drawing nearer with each second. Soon the faint sound of rotor blades could be heard above him. With his one good eye, Sagat looked up at the hangar's metal ceiling.

A resounding clank sent echoes reverberating throughout the chamber, followed by a harsh grinding and the noise of straining metal. Sagat knew the sound, and knew what to expect. Above him the entire ceiling began to split apart, tilting upward and outward. As it did so, dawn's pale light began to spill in from the outside world.

What had begun as a crack widened and widened, until finally Sagat was able to make out the vehicle that the base was opening its maw to receive. The massive helicopter hung in the air over him, propellers churning, kicking up gusts of air that he could feel even at his current distance.

The overhead door continued to groan open, and soon the helicopter began to descend. The wind from the propellers grew stronger and stronger, turning into a howling torrent of air as the aircraft dipped down into the hangar itself. The noise was deafening, a clattering roar of terrible volume.

Sagat remained where he was, unmoved by either the sound or the wind howling about him, watching as the machine lowered itself to its designated resting place in a flawless landing. After a few moments the rotors began to slow to a low whirr, and then stopped completely. Silence reigned.

Then, with another clank, the ceiling reversed direction, slowly closing back up again. The sunlight that had so briefly been allowed to stream in was once again choked off, as the thick steel door slammed shut. The base was once again secure, the detailed camouflage on the door's exterior making its detection well-nigh impossible.

But Sagat's attention was focused on the helicopter. The giant swallowed, steeling himself for what would come next.

With a hydraulic hiss the door in the helicopter's side slid open, revealing two more of Bison's Dolls. Sagat recognized them as Enero and Xiayu, Dolls 01 and 09. They quickly jumped down and took flanking positions on either side of the door, standing at attention, their blank faces looking off into nothingness. Beyond them, Sagat caught sight of a shadow standing back in the darkened interior of the aircraft. But it was only once his Dolls had positioned themselves that Bison himself emerged into view.

He was clad in the blood red uniform that he always wore, complete with the bulky metallic armor that adorned his boots, forearms and shoulders. On his head he wore a red and black cap which bore the winged skull insignia of Shadowlaw, and trailing behind him was a dark, voluminous cloak.

Power seemed to surround him, and his broad-shouldered, muscular frame was the least of it. It was all but tangible, an aura of crushing, chaotic destruction that knew nothing of weakness or restraint. He was smiling, a contemptuous smile that twisted his corpse-like visage. His gaze swept across the hangar, finally coming to rest on Sagat. The Muay Thai warrior forced himself to meet it dead on, staring back into those white, pupil-less eyes.

Bison stepped down from the helicopter and immediately began striding toward Sagat, his cloak billowing out behind him. The giant fell into step with his master as he passed.

"I trust that no complications arose in my absence?" asked Bison as he walked, not even deigning to look at his servant.

"None," Sagat replied neutrally.

"Good," was crime lord's response. "Then we proceed with the plan. Assemble the Dolls, and Balrog as well. I want them ready to launch at a moment's notice." He paused. "And have Killer Bee attend me in the command center. There is still one piece of business that I must conclude before the game can begin in earnest."

* * *

Great Britain, March 12

Morning mist hung low over the road, blanketing the surroundings in a drifting, ethereal pallor. The wispy tendrils of vapor drifted and writhed, their slow movements impossible to predict, at times seeming more like a living thing than mere weather. Everything was enfolded in its spectral grasp, clutched by its pale, formless hand. The scene had the aspect of a lost and distant dream; in fact, it was nearly impossible to remember that this place was in any way connected to the waking world.

Sometimes the outlines of trees could be seen, shadows of darker grey against the fog's lighter shade. They faded in and out of view according to the whim of the mist and the breeze. No other shapes were visible, save for a small car parked on the side of the road, and the young woman that stood beside it.

Chun-li had heard stories of the London fog before. They had not done justice to the reality.

She gazed around, her dark eyes carefully searching for any sign of the person she was supposed to meet, but her efforts met with no reward. The mist seemed to be taunting her, laughing at the small mortal who thought her puny eyesight could contend with it. She shivered, clutching her arms tightly around her in an attempt to ward off the clammy chill.

After many long minutes of waiting, impatience got the better of her. "Hello?" she called out into the churning nothingness. "Is anybody there?" But there was no reply. Her voice was muffled in the fog, a small disturbance in the otherwise deathly quiet. And so she continued to wait, cut off from the world around her, alone in the belly of the earth-bound cloud.

The policewoman checked her watch. Twelve minutes and thirty-five seconds since she had arrived here, and still no sign of anyone but herself. She sighed, leaning back against the car, wondering if this wasn't all just a wild goose chase. There were certainly enough peculiarities about it to give any sane person grounds for suspicion. But even so, something deep in her gut told her that this was on the level. And for now that was good enough for her.

Time passed, slowly. With nothing to occupy her, Chun-li found her attention being distracted by the endlessly shifting haze. It fascinated her, the way the fog's subtle textures moved, unpredictable and uncontrollable. The effect was strangely hypnotizing. Her eyes traced the paths it followed, drinking in the otherworldly atmosphere of the place.

"Beautiful, isn't it?"

Chun-li whirled at the sound of the voice, cursing herself for her complacency. Whoever it was, they had managed to sneak up behind her without her sensing their approach. That was something that she never should have allowed to happen, a potentially lethal mistake in a situation like this. Acting out of pure reflex she clenched her hands as she spun, bringing them up into a fighting position, ready to defend against any attack.

None came. As she turned she caught her first glimpse of the speaker, a woman, standing off at a distance of several meters, her shadowy form only just visible through the mist. The policewoman narrowed her eyes, trying to make out any details she could about the mysterious newcomer, but to little effect. She could make out shapes—the slender, graceful figure, the long ornately styled hair—but beyond that all was veiled, obscure. For a moment there was nothing but silence as the two sized each other up. Finally, Chun-li spoke. "Who are you?"

"My name is Rose." The voice was soft, rich, almost melodic.

"A pleasure to meet you, Rose..." replied Chun-li, making sure to match the other woman's calm tone. "I take it you're the one I'm supposed to meet here?"

"I am."

So this was it. The moment of truth. Clenching her fists and hoping, she asked the question that had plagued her since she'd left Interpol Headquarters. "In your note, you claimed that you had possession of the tape. Is that true?"

"Why don't you see for yourself?"

Slowly the figure began to walk toward her, and with each step Chun-li could hear the distinctive sound of high heels clicking against the road's pavement. _How on earth did I miss hearing her come up behind me?_ she wondered, mystified. _There's definitely something about this woman. She's no ordinary thief._

As Rose strode through the layers of fog, Chun-li was able to make out more and more of her appearance. Her first impression was that of color. A bewildering array of colors, in fact, all vibrantly intertwined with each other. Soon, the colors resolved themselves into clarity. Blue, the sleek, form-fitting bodysuit that clung to her curvaceous frame. Red, the loose dress that she wore over it, buckled at the waist by a large blue belt. Purple, the strange color of her even stranger hair, done up in a somehow regal style that jutted out at near-impossible angles. And yellow, a pale, luminous yellow, the color of the long shawl that she wore around her shoulders.

But Chun-li's gaze quickly fixed on the least colorful object of all. Held in the woman's hand was a small black video tape.

* * *

The Shadowlaw command center was dark yet luminous, a place of dim shadows, punctuated throughout by the glow of status lights, readouts and monitors of various shapes and sizes. The silence was broken only by the whirr of coolant fans and the hum of the cutting-edge electronics that packed the place from top to bottom. It was a veritable shrine to technology, a temple of the machine. A place where the cold and lifeless held preeminence.

_Click._

Bison studied the massive computerized display in front of him, seated in his chair, his fingers steepled in a position of thought. The screen showed the image of a fairly crowded city street, evidently taken at around noon. The shop signs and the ethnicity of the people revealed that the place was somewhere in Asia, but there was no sign as to the exact location.

The crime lord's eyes poured over the scene, examining it in painstaking detail. Finally, he spoke. "No."

_Click._

The scene before him changed. It was now another street, although still in an Oriental country, and still filled with pedestrians. This one, however, was more sparsely populated than the former, and the shops appeared much dingier and less reputable. Bison analyzed this one as he had done the one before, and in the end came to the same conclusion. "No."

_Click._

Bison glanced leisurely over to where the sound was coming from. He smiled as he did so, allowing his eyes to feast on his greatest masterpiece. She stood at the computer console, her blonde hair running down behind her in two long braids that hung below her waist. She wore a light blue jumpsuit on her body, while on her face she wore the dead, lifeless expression common to all the Dolls.

The master of Shadowlaw watched her with pride. No, not just a mere Doll, this girl was the crowning achievement of his Doll program, possessing a strength and speed that significantly exceeded any of the other subjects. More than any of the others, he had poured his resources into her development, sparing no expense on her. She was the best, the most lethal, the most skilled, the most flawless. She was Cammy White, his Killer Bee.

And all too soon, he would have no more need for her. It was a pity, really.

Bison watched her for a few more moments, before turning his attention back to the monitor and the image it held. After examining it, he rejected it just as he had the others. "No."

_Click._

Cammy obediently keyed in a command into her terminal, advancing the image on the big screen yet again. The new scene was no closer than any of the others, but Bison was not deterred. His answers were out there. And he would find them, no matter how long it took.

* * *

"So just whose side are you on, Rose?" asked Chun-li.

"I am... a friend."

The policewoman raised an eyebrow. "A 'friend' who steals vital evidence from the scene of a crime?"

"Yes," Rose laughed, sadly. "That kind of friend, I'm afraid."

"May I ask why you took it?"

"For the same reason that you yourself are seeking it," replied the colorfully dressed woman. "Because it holds the key to whatever dark purpose Bison is devising. You are not the only one who hunts that monster, Inspector. He and I have been battling since long before Interpol knew of his existence."

"And you think that this vendetta of yours gives you a right to cut the authorities out of the picture?"

"Whether I have that right or not I do not know. But I was—and still am—determined to defeat Bison, by any means necessary." Rose hesitated, looking down at the ground. "And... what's more, I had hoped my action would prevent you and your colleagues from becoming entangled in this. The danger is far too great."

"You think I don't know the danger?" Chun-li asked.

Rose looked up, her face grim. "Child, I don't think you have the slightest conception of it. Have you ever _seen_ Bison, Inspector? Your organization and his have battled for years, but have you ever _seen_ him with your own eyes?"

Chun-li remained impassive. "No."

"I have." Rose shook her head. "And he is a being of such power that it staggers the imagination. This should have been my fight, and my fight alone." She sighed. "Unfortunately, that is no longer an option."

"Why not?"

Wordlessly, Rose lifted the tape in her hand until it was at eye level. Then she tilted it on its side. As she did so, a loud rattle came from the black case, the unmistakable sound of loose parts clattering around inside. Chun-li smiled, realization sinking in. "Of course..." she said. "The fall... It was broken in the fall from the helicopter."

"Yes," Rose agreed, nodding. "Such a trivial thing, and yet it has thrown all my previous plans into disarray. In its current state it is completely unplayable, and I have little knowledge of... technical matters such as these. I need help quickly, and I need help that I can trust."

"Interpol, in other words."

"Even so. I have the tape, and your organization has the expertise necessary to fix it. Unless we cooperate, neither of us will gain the information we need. I am willing to share it; are you?"

Chun-li considered the proposition, sizing up the enigmatic woman as she did so. "I could just arrest you here and now..." she said thoughtfully. "Take the tape, and throw you in the lockup for theft of evidence."

Rose shrugged, her expression going cold. "You could try," she said, her soft tone covering the threat with the thinnest of veils. "But you risk loosing everything if you do not succeed." As she spoke her ki aura flared up, exploding to life with a blazing intensity that made Chun-li take an instinctive step backward. _Incredible..._ she thought, stunned. _I don't think I've ever sensed anyone with that much power, not even Master Gen... Who is this woman?_

Silence followed, each second drawn out painfully as the two women locked eyes and wills. Finally, Chun-li exhaled. "No, I don't suppose it's worth taking the chance, is it?"

"Not with stakes as high as these," replied Rose, not unsympathetically, her aura fading as she relaxed. "Bison is the true enemy; all else pales in comparison. I had faith you'd see it that way."

Chun-li nodded. "You're right..." she said, memories coming to her mind unbidden. Memories of her father. "Just so long as Bison goes down. That's all that matters."

"Then we understand each other." Rose gave a small, wan smile, then gestured toward Chun-li's parked car. "But we must move quickly. It is a race now."

* * *

Shrouded in the darkness of the Shadowlaw command center, Bison continued his search. Countless were the images he had evaluated and rejected. Countless more remained. Impatience was gnawing at him, driving him to increase his pace. He was so close, so very close. Already he could taste his imminent victory. His ultimate victory. The thought spurred him on.

_Click._

"No."

_Click._

"No."

_Click._

Bison opened his mouth to reject this one as well. It was a blurry, low resolution picture, another generic Oriental street with nothing noticeable about it. None of the shops looked familiar, nor did the street itself. In short, there was nothing to suggest that this was what he was looking for.

Except...

Slowly Bison got up from his chair, standing and moving closer to the big screen for a better look. There... Just peeking around the corner of one of the buildings, he could make out a distant shape that looked like a clock tower. Bison pointed his finger at it. "Magnify that."

Cammy entered a quick series of commands, initializing the sophisticated image enhancement routines. The screen zoomed in, until the tower was in plain view. Bison looked at the distinctive design, his eyes flashing with excitement. "This city. Show me more."

In response to his command a myriad of images came up, tiling themselves all across the screen. Bison took them all in gazing at each of them, his excitement growing with each one. He began to chuckle, starting as a low rumble in his chest, but soon growing to an all out laugh. "So that's it..." he said, his entire face splitting into a vicious smile. "That's where it happened..."

Then he turned to Cammy. "Make certain that all the preparations are complete," he ordered her. "We move within the hour."


	5. The Tape

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Street Fighter in any way, shape or form. It and all associated characters, trademarks, etc. are owned by Capcom. I'm just telling some stories about them.

* * *

Chapter Five: The Tape

Great Britain, March 12

Chun-li brought the steaming cup of coffee to her face, breathing in the strong, warm scent. It was her third such cup since her return to Interpol half an hour ago. The adrenaline that had carried her through her encounter with Rose had long since abandoned her, leaving only willpower and caffeine to keep her on her feet. And now even caffeine was beginning to loose its effectiveness.

She took a sip of the thick brown liquid, grimacing slightly at the bitter taste. At the moment she wanted nothing more than to rest, to unburden herself of consciousness and collapse into oblivion. How long had it been since she had last done that? She couldn't remember exactly.

But sleep wasn't an option now, not when they were sitting on the biggest break yet in the Shadowlaw investigation. She was not about to let this opportunity slip through her fingers again. The information broker's murder had already demonstrated Bison's ability to penetrate their security, and until she had seen the tape's contents with her own eyes she refused to relax her vigilance. She would see this through.

Despite her resolve, however, she could feel the dull weight of drowsiness enfolding her. Shaking her head in an effort to clear it, she looked around at the room and its three other occupants, trying to find something to engage her attention.

The workshop was small and untidy, a case study in clutter and rampant disorganization. Shelves lined the walls, packed to overflowing with all manner of devices, cables, and other paraphernalia, none of which Chun-li recognized. The workbench in the room's center was in a similar state, bearing no less than three toolboxes and countless esoteric gadgets. Much of the equipment was in a state of disassembly, with parts either spread across the table or missing altogether.

Other than that, the furnishings were few. A window in the east wall allowed some amount of sunlight to stream through, illuminating faded wallpaper and the chipped, weathered tile floor. On the workbench stood a framed photo, that of a smiling little girl in a yellow dress. And behind the workbench sat Jeremiah Carver, the old man on whose frail shoulders their hopes now rested.

His thinning grey hair hung disheveled around his head, a telltale sign of a man recently and abruptly aroused from sleep. His clothes were rumpled and mismatched, indicating that he had been given little time to dress before coming here. As the head technician of London Interpol's machine shop, he had been called in the moment they had realized the nature of the problem they faced. Now he sat there, examining every facet of the tape with the utmost detail.

It was not long before he set to work. Selecting a screwdriver from the bench, he began to disassemble the outer casing. Chun-li looked on, biting her lip as she did so. She had no idea how badly the tape was damaged, nor whether this Jeremiah had the skill necessary to repair it. The uncertainty gnawed at her, an almost physical pain in the pit of her stomach. If they were to fail now...

She glanced over to where Captain Walker was sitting. He, at least, had expressed complete faith in the old man's abilities. And yet even he was looking anxious as he watched the work progress. It was the natural consequence of being relegated to the sidelines, forced to sit idle as others decided the fate of the investigation. He sat in his chair, arms crossed, face dark and brooding. Every so often he would shoot a suspicious look across the room, over to where Rose stood.

Of the room's four occupants, only Rose seemed untouched by the stifling tension. She was leaning against the far wall, her bearing relaxed, her features placid and composed. A strange calmness seemed to surround her, a sense of detachment, of quiet resignation. It had an almost unearthly feel to it, and once again Chun-li found herself wishing she knew more about this mysterious woman.

The strained silence was broken only by the occasional clicking of Jeremiah's screwdriver as it went about its task. And progress was not long in coming. As the three others watched, Jeremiah finished removing the tape's cracked outer shell. "Oh dear..." he muttered to himself as he caught his first glimpse of the tape's internals.

"What? What is it?" asked Captain Walker quickly.

"Eh?" the old man glanced up from his work, remembering that he had an audience. "Oh, I'm sorry sir, forgot you were there. It's just not a pretty sight, that's all. Have a look for yourself."

Leaning over, Chun-li peered inside the casing. She winced at what she saw. The coil of videotape was in torn in multiple places, pierced by fragments of its own case. The policewoman's heart sank. It was clearly unplayable.

Jeremiah caught sight of her expression. "Now don't you fret," he chuckled. "It may look bad now, but I've seen worse in my time. There's nothing here that can't be fixed." He turned to rummage about in one of the nearby toolboxes, eventually drawing out a delicate pair of scissors. Then he turned back to Chun-li. "Miss, would you mind handing me that splicer on the shelf behind you? No, not that one, the smaller one beside it."

The Chinese woman handed him the tool, which he accepted with a smile and a bow of the head. "Now, what else... Oh yes, I'll need a fresh tape too. I'm afraid the old casing must be completely replaced." And with that he dove into his work.

As she watched the old man, Chun-li felt some of her initial worry slipping away. There was something about him, a familiar quality that she was only now beginning to recognize. It was an attitude of quiet confidence, of skill and knowledge forged together by long years of experience.

She knew this kind of man; she had studied under many of them in her kung fu training. Masters. Those who had spent a lifetime honing their craft, until it was as natural to them as breathing. And as she was beginning to realize, this quaint, courteous old gentleman was a master too, after his own fashion. His eyes were sharp and alert, and his wrinkled hands moved with uncanny speed and precision as they worked away at the broken tape. They were, Chun-li decided, good hands to be in.

But even at Jeremiah's rapid pace, there was still a great deal that had to be done. Minute after minute passed, dragging on into hour after hour. Chun-li blinked slowly, her vision beginning to blur. With a sigh of irritation, she stood up from the chair she had been sitting in and began to pace slowly, coffee cup in hand. The activity helped to keep her wits about her, giving her something to focus on. It also earned her a quizzical look from Rose, which the policewoman ignored.

The old man worked on. He continued to unwind the tape from the old reel, repairing it as he went and winding it around a new one. Eventually he passed the halfway mark, with as much tape on one as on the other. Then the three-fourths mark. And then, at last, the end was in sight.

The old man smiled in satisfaction as he wrapped the last remaining bit of tape on the new reel, and inserted the new reel into its new case. He made a few last minute adjustments, connecting everything to his satisfaction, then closed it all up and tightened it with his screwdriver. Finally, he turned and held it out to Chun-li. "It's done."

Slowly, almost unbelievingly, Chun-li reached out her hand for the tape. She took it, looking it over from every angle. She could think of nothing to say. They had done it. Against all odds, they had the priceless information in their hands, ready to be used.

* * *

Tape firmly in hand, Chun-li tore through the hallways of Interpol Headquarters, sending aides and officers alike scrambling to get out of her way. Rose and Captain Walker were right behind her, following in her wake. The trio dashed down to the end of the hall and up the nearby flight of stairs, never once slackening their pace. Soon they reached their destination. Chun-li threw the conference room door open, and at once eight pairs of eyes were fastened on her. "It's ready!" she announced to the assembled group of agents.

The energy increase in the room was palpable. A path was immediately cleared for her, leading to the television that had been set up in against the far wall. The Chinese woman glanced over at one of the lieutenants. "Did you get the right player for this?"

The lieutenant nodded. "If the tape's the format that we think it is, then this should be able to read it. Right over there." He gestured to a small black box sitting by the television, with wires running between the two. Walking up to it, Chun-li inserted the tape without hesitation.

Rose, now standing to the other side of the television, reached over and turned it on. The screen flared to life, a monochrome blue. Everyone in the room held their breath. This was it. The moment of truth had arrived. It was time to unveil Bison's secret.

Chun-li reached down and pressed the "play" button.

For a few moments the screen dissolved into a jumbled mess of static, before resolving itself into a coherent image. Immediately, everyone craned their necks in an attempt to get a good look at it. It was the interior of a room, small but well-furnished. At the center of the screen stood an Asian boy in his early teens, grinning into the camera.

_"Hey! Is it on? Is it working?"_ he said, in Japanese.

_"I think so!"_ came another voice, offscreen, speaking the same language. _"It says it's recording... Say something!"_

_"Huh? What do you mean?"_

_"Y'know, say something. Something cool, for our first recording."_

_"Um... Happy Birthday, Sasaki!"_

_"Oh, forget it..."_

The boy continued to talk animatedly with the unseen cameraman, discussing the various uses they could put their new toy to. Captain Walker turned to Chun-li. "Greek to me. You getting any of this?"

Chun-li opened her mouth to reply, but Rose beat her to it. "The boy holding the camera seems to have just obtained it, probably as a gift. This is his first time trying it out."

"Oh... Well now I can see why old Bison was so desperate to get his hands on this," quipped one of the agents. "Just imagine all the evil he could unleash with _that_ information..."

Captain Walker shot the wisecracker a glare, then spoke again to the two women. "Does anything they're saying sound like it might be important? Any hints at all?"

Chun-li listened to the recorded dialogue for a few more moments, before shaking her head. "I don't see anything that's out of the ordinary."

On the screen, the image changed abruptly. The camera's owner had evidently taken the device outside his home and had resumed taping there. The view was now one of city streets, panning around to take in the whole view. Chun-li analyzed what she could see of the area. It was definitely somewhere in Japan, but the absence of skyscrapers indicated that it wasn't Tokyo or any of the larger cities.

The voice of the first boy could be heard now. _"Hey Sasaki! You think your mom would let us take this down to the docks and film the ships coming in?"_

_"Nah..."_ said the other. _"And even if she did, she'd probably want my sister to go along to keep an eye on us. 'Sides, I'm sure there's plenty of cooler things we can find."_

_"Says you. I like watching the ships."_

_"Maybe we could go down to the park; we might get some good shots there..."_

Captain Walker continued to watch the screen, stroking his chin as he did so, head bowed in thought. Finally he straightened up. "All right, here's the way we're going to play this," he announced, his words coming out rapid-fire. "Chun-li, Rose, since you speak the language you're our primary assets. I want the two of you glued to this television. Chun-li, you'll be transcribing everything that's said into English so the rest of the team can start attacking this as well."

"Yes sir," was Chun-li's crisp reply.

"Now as for you Rose, your job will be purely analytical. I want you to—" Captain Walker stopped in mid-sentence, belatedly remembering that Rose was in no way under his command. "Ah, that is... I would _appreciate_ it if you would watch carefully for anything that looks significant. The two of you will constitute our first pass at this tape, and Chun-li will have part of her attention taken up by translating it. A second pair of ears and eyes might make all the difference."

Rose smiled. "You can be assured of my full cooperation."

"Thank you." Then the captain turned to the other assembled officers. "The rest of you, go make yourselves useful. We'll reconvene once we have our transcript, and can work through it together."

Heads nodded all around the room. "Okay then," Captain Walker said. "Let's get to work."

* * *

Two hours later, Chun-li's head was buried in her hands as she rubbed her eyes in an attempt to clear her blurring vision. _Just how long is this tape, anyway?_ she asked herself silently, cursing it for being in a language none of her teammates could understand. She wanted sleep so very badly, but none seemed forthcoming.

Already she had endured a lengthy exploration of Sasaki's home city. After that had come one of the boy's judo matches. Then the trip to Osaka. Then the school performance of "Chinshingura," with Sasaki cast as an extra. And all of it had been interspersed with innumerable bits and slices of everyday life, recorded for no other purpose than sheer novelty. _This boy must want to be a filmmaker when he grows up—either that, or he just wants to document his entire life on tape._

It was maddening. As minute after minute ticked by, she began to wonder if this wasn't all some kind of demented practical joke, designed to make Interpol run itself in circles for Bison's amusement. She racked her brain, trying to imagine how a home video might possibly be of interest to the crime lord, but the speculation was ultimately pointless. And so she watched, faithfully copying down every useless word, wondering when this ordeal would finally bear fruit.

Now the scene had shifted to the coast, showing Sasaki's sister and two of his friends walking along a rocky shoreline. The boy himself was apparently the one holding the camera. No one was speaking much; the two visible boys were roughing each other up playfully, while the older girl watched with condescending amusement.

There was a calm, subdued feeling to the scene. Gentle waves lapped up onto the beach, ceaselessly, tirelessly. Overhead several seagulls could be seen, their harsh cries piercing the air from time to time. The horizon stretched out beyond them, ocean as far as the eye could see. The expanse of blue was marred only by a rocky, odd-shaped island that lay just offshore.

Everything was peaceful, peaceful and relaxing. And those were the exact things Chun-li didn't need right now, in the state she was in. The policewoman rubbed her eyes yet again, harder this time. It didn't help.

Unexpectedly, she felt a comforting hand rest itself on her shoulder. She turned, glancing up to see Rose standing over her, sympathy written across the older woman's features. "Why don't you take a rest?" she asked, softly. "I can handle the transcription."

Chun-li shook her head doggedly. "I'll be all right," she said. "The captain assigned me this job. I doubt he'd appreciate you taking it over, especially if I wasn't around to watch. He doesn't really trust you."

"So I noticed," remarked Rose dryly. "Nevertheless, you must do something. Without a rest you'll soon be of no use to anyone."

"I'll manage."

"No, you won't," was the firm reply. "You're already starting to make translational errors, and they're getting worse the further you push yourself. Do you really want to risk throwing your own team off track by something you miswrote? Human beings have limits, child. You can't go on ignoring yours."

Chun-li looked down, eyes searching back over what she had recently written. Rose was right, of course. Now that she looked, she could see at least a half dozen obvious mistakes in the transcript, ranging all the way from minor misspellings to absurdly distorted sentences. The last few paragraphs were almost completely illegible.

She sighed, hanging her head. "Okay, you win. Call Captain Walker in here. I'll see if I can convince him to let you take over."

Rose nodded and turned to leave. With reluctance, Chun-li took one last look at the screen, yawning as she did so. Was there no end to the trouble this tape was going to give them? At each step along the way they had seemed so close to unlocking its secrets, and yet each time another complication had arisen. How much longer would this go on?

The camera was focused on the two boys now, still tussling by the water's edge, each one striving for the upper hand. They wrestled back and forth, making up in enthusiasm what they lacked in formal training. Chun-li smiled at the pair, caught up as they were in the thrill of combat. _The warrior's fire,_ she thought fondly. _It burns in us all... in one form or another._

The friendly battle raged on, neither of the pair gaining an upper hand, until suddenly they were interrupted by the sound of a girl's voice. Sasaki's sister. _"Hey you guys..."_ she said. _"Did... any of you feel anything weird just now?"_

The combatants paused in mid-grapple, looking offscreen to where Sasaki's sister was evidently standing. _"What do you mean, Misako-san?"_ one of them asked, as Sasaki turned the camera to bring her into view.

_"I... It's probably nothing,"_ replied the girl. _"I just felt... cold, that's all. Like you feel when a cloud passes over the sun."_ She glanced up at the clear blue sky, then made a passable attempt at a chuckle. _"Just my imagination, I guess."_

The two boys glanced at each other for a moment, then shrugged. They did not return to their fight. Somehow, the mood for it seemed to have left them.

Chun-li frowned. On the surface it had been an innocent enough exchange. And yet... There had been something there, something a little bit too serious to dismiss out of hand. The expression on the girl's face, the subtle way she had wrung her hands while talking...

...the way she had described it...

"Rose..." she called out. "Rose! Captain Walker! Get in here!"

Immediately, the sound of running feet could be heard in the outside hallway. A few seconds later Rose burst into the room, the captain hot on her heels. "What is it?" asked the purple-haired woman.

Chun-li glanced up at the two of them, then pointed to the screen. "The girl. I think... she's sensing a presence of some kind."

"A presence..." Rose's brow creased. "Where could she have learned such a skill?"

"I don't know..." admitted Chun-li. "Maybe she's a prodigy—naturally more sensitive than others to disruptions in the ki flow."

"It's possible," Rose mused. "But even so, to do it without training... A presence is usually such a subtle thing to detect..."

No one said any more, not on either side of the television screen. The children continued to walk to wherever they were going, as Chun-li, Rose and Captain Walker looked on. Misako never lost her expression of anxiety; in fact the farther they walked, the more distressed she became. Soon she began to cast quick glances from side to side, clutching her arms around her as though to warm herself.

Finally, her brother spoke, hesitantly. _"Oneesan... are you sure you're okay?"_

The girl looked up, and those watching the tape saw that her face was deathly white. _"I don't know..."_ she managed to choke out. _"I... I've never felt anything like this before... Fire... burning me... so cold..."_ She shuddered convulsively, and slowly began to slump toward the ground.

_"Misako!"_ The view spun wildly; Sasaki had tossed his camera to the ground to attend his sister. It landed with jarring force, causing the picture to dissolve into a sea of static. Captain Walker, Chun-li and Rose all held their breath.

The picture returned. The camera lay at an angle, looking out over the bay. In the corner of the view Sasaki could just barely be seen, cradling his sister in his arms. _"Go find my dad!"_ he shouted frantically to his friends. _"Tell him Misako's sick! Tell him to get a doctor! Hurry!"_

The two boys needed no second prompting. They raced off as fast as they could, leaving Sasaki with his sister's quivering body. _"Hang on, Oneesan..."_ he pleaded. _"They're gonna get a doctor... Just hang on..."_

Despite her condition, the girl managed to speak. _"R- r- run..."_

Sasaki looked down at her, incredulous. _"What are you talking about?"_

_"You... have to... run,"_ she said, clutching at Sasaki's shirt, her voice gaining strength. _"Before it's to late... You have to run away... as fast as you can..."_

_"Oneesan, you're delirious! I'm staying right here!"_

_"No!"_ the girl sobbed desperately. _"No, no, you have to get away... Please, Sasaki!"_

"Listen to her, child..." whispered Rose. "Listen to her!"

Sasaki stood there, rooted to the spot, near tears. He couldn't understand what was going on, and he didn't know what he ought to do. In his arms, his sister's convulsions increased, her eyes now wide and unfocused. He clutched her tightly to himself, trying to calm her, trying to do something, anything to end the nightmare.

Around him, what had once been a gentle breeze began to gather strength, until it howled around them with savage force. Waves crashed violently against the shore, sending spray flying into the air. The sun's light seemed to dim, as though the sky itself were tainted with shadow. Beneath his feet, the ground began to tremble.

All nature seemed to have been driven mad. Wind, water and earth, each were lashing out in unchecked violence and hatred. Chun-li watched, scarcely believing what she saw, as the elements raged around the cowering siblings. Beside her, Captain Walker stood slack-jawed. "Some kind of... storm..." he managed to say.

Rose shook her head slowly, her face dark. "This is no storm."

Whatever Captain Walker might have said in reply was lost as an ear-splitting crack, like that of thunder, exploded from the speakers. For an instant red, hellish light bathed the scene, drawing a small gasp from Rose. Then it was gone.

But only for a moment. Seconds later, it happened again. And again. Each time it was with greater intensity. Each time, as if in reply, the fury of the wind and waves increased. And Chun-li could see that each time, the blasts were coming from the same place.

The island.

It hung there offshore, a hulking mass of rock that jutted from the water, standing at the very epicenter of the destructive chaos that broiled around it. Shadowed in the unnatural dark, it revealed a sinister aspect to its form that had until now gone unnoticed. _That place is a place of death,_ Chun-li realized, though she did not know how she knew.

As she watched, more explosions of crimson energy tore away at the island's surface, smashing massive amounts of stone and flinging it into the air like it was dust. Debris from the blasts crashed into the sea on all sides, and it seemed as though the island itself would be torn apart by the terrible forces that were being unleashed at its summit.

Then the end came. A final explosion erupted outward, dwarfing all others that had come before it. It shattered the island's whole upper section, sending the rubble tumbling down to the water below. And with that, the carnage began to subside. The winds slowed. The waves died down. The earth ceased its shaking.

And then there was silence.

No one said anything for several seconds, until at last Captain Walker spoke up. "What... What in heaven's name was that?"

Rose shook her head. "Heaven, I fear, has very little to do with what we have just witnessed."

"I won't argue there..." agreed Captain Walker, shuddering. "This is unbelievable. Just... unbelievable. How on earth am I going to explain something this insane to my superiors?"

"I don't know," said Chun-li. "I'm not sure I even know how to explain it to myself. I've never seen anything like that before. Ever. Have you Rose?" She glanced over at the other woman. "Rose?"

But Rose made no reply. Her gaze was still fixed unwaveringly on the television, and when she did speak her voice was grim. "It's not over yet."

"What?" Captain Walker whirled back to look at the screen. "But... everything looks like it's going back to normal..."

"Is it?" asked Rose. "Then why is the sunlight still being withheld?"

Chun-li's eyes narrowed. Rose was right. Although the more obvious signs of chaos had passed away, the same could not be said of the enveloping shadow. It continued to permeate the surroundings, growing even blacker as they watched. It was deepening. Building. Gathering its power.

Without warning, the entire screen was engulfed in a cold, spectral light. It blazed out from the island with blinding intensity, like a fallen star come to rest on the earth. But this star held no beauty, only an ghastly radiance that brought forth both dread and revulsion in Chun-li.

Then, at the center of the light, the explosions began. One after another, in quick succession, flashes of orange light. Fifteen of them. Then they halted.

A few seconds later the brightness slowly faded away, revealing as it did so that the darkness was dissipating as well. Within a few minutes the sky was clear again. The warm rays of the sun were once more allowed to stream down to the earth.

Nature quietly resumed its course, betraying no evidence that the recent cataclysm had ever occurred. Peace settled once more over the rocky coastline, and the only sound that could be heard was the quiet sobbing of Misako as she cried in her brother's arms.

Rose exhaled. "_Now_ it's over."

No one said anything to that. Eventually, Rose continued. "I don't think there's any mystery remaining as to why Bison wanted this tape. A power of that magnitude... He obviously intends to possess it."

"Yes. Which means that we have a golden opportunity." Chun-li's eyes burned with predatory fire. "We may not know where his forces are, but we know where they're going to end up. We'll be waiting."

Captain Walker nodded. "I'll have my men get in touch with the Japanese office. If we send them some stills from the video, they might be able to tell us where exactly these locations are. That'll give you a place to start. I assume you'll be needing a flight to Japan?"

"The fastest one you can get me." The policewoman then turned to Rose. "What do you intend to do, now that you've seen what Bison's planning?"

"The same as yourself," replied Rose evenly. "Stop him, as best as I can with the resources available to me."

For a moment, Chun-li simply looked at Rose, their gazes locking as the Chinese woman tried to read some hint of the other woman's soul in her eyes. Finally she spoke. "Back on the roadside, we decided to work together so that we could fix the tape. How would you feel about extending that partnership a little bit?"

Captain Walker's face twisted in an expression of shock and consternation, but if the colorfully dressed woman was surprised at the offer, she gave no sign. "I would be honored," was her only response.

"Chun-li!" snapped Captain Walker. With a backward glance at Rose, he grabbed the young policewoman by the arm and pulled her off to the far side of the conference room. "Chun-li, I don't like this," he hissed.

"Any members I choose for my team are at my own discretion, Captain," she said tiredly. "My orders grant me significant leeway in that regard. If you want to challenge that, take it up with the General Secretariat."

The captain shook his head. "I'm not saying this as a superior officer, Chun-li. I'm saying this as a friend, someone who owes you the lives of his men. I don't trust this woman. We don't know a thing about her, her background, why she's in this... On top of that, she stole the tape from us, and the only reason she returned it is because she couldn't use it alone!"

Chun-li sighed. "Believe me, I'm extremely conscious of those facts. She's a question mark, and a big one. But there are two things about her that I am sure of. First, that she's got more power than anyone I've ever met, and second, that there's no love lost between her and Bison."

"Just because she's not on Bison's side doesn't mean she's on ours."

"It's a calculated risk." She looked over at where the television stood. "And it's one we have to take, because I'm afraid we're going to need all the help we can get. I honestly don't know whether Rose is on our side or not. But what we saw on that tape…" her voice trailed off. "That, I am certain, is not on our side."

The two Interpol agents were silent for a while, each looking at the other, until finally Captain Walker nodded curtly. "All right," he said. "Godspeed, Chun-li. And be careful."

* * *

Japan, March 13

Hours later, on the other side of the world, the sun rose over a small port town on the Japan sea. Its golden light shone down, calling all those beneath it to wakefulness. And so, bit by bit, the city came alive. Soon its inhabitants walking up and down the streets, laughing, chatting sometimes. The air was filled with the bustle and the murmur of everyday life, as people went about their daily business with pleasant mundanity.

No one paid any attention to the young man as he sat deep within the alleyway. It was a skill that city-dwellers usually perfected; a person sitting on the ground like that usually meant a panhandler, and panhandlers were easier to deal with for those who had learned how not to notice them.

If, for some reason, they had chosen to look at him for a moment, they would have seen his clothes first. Torn and ragged, probably bought from some secondhand store, only reinforcing the image of a bum. He wore a threadbare brown jacket, thrown over a t-shirt that had once been white, but which countless stains had long ago turned a mottled gray. His legs were covered by a pair of blue jeans, patched in several places and with holes in several more.

The young man's head was bowed, so if they had wanted to make out his features they would have had to look even closer. Had they done so, they would have seen dark brown hair hanging unkempt over dark brown eyes. They might even have noticed that there was something not quite right about those eyes, with their stony, unblinking gaze that did not quite hide the tortured fear deep within them. They were lost eyes, the eyes of a man who wants desperately to cry, but has forgotten how.

No one saw any of that. No one saw how he would flinch as people walked by the mouth of the alley, averting his face so that they were kept out of his vision. No one saw the way his fingers twitched, steadily, convulsively.

No one saw what he held clasped in his right hand, like a drowning man clinging to a lifeline.

A red headband.


	6. Echoes

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Street Fighter in any way, shape or form. It and all associated characters, trademarks, etc. are owned by Capcom. I'm just telling some stories about them.

* * *

Chapter Six: Echoes

Over the North Sea, March 13

The tarot cards whirred effortlessly between Rose's hands as she shuffled them back and forth, sometimes cutting them, sometimes dealing out a spread onto the small tray that folded down out of the seat in front of her—only to gather them all up with one sweep of her hand and begin again. The sounds the cards made as she manipulated them were the loudest that could be heard on the passenger jet; all else was quiet, save for the gentle thrum of the engines on the wings outside.

For what seemed like the thousandth time since boarding the plane, Rose scrutinized the cards that lay in front of her. For what seemed like the thousandth time, she could learn nothing from them. And with each failure her uneasiness grew.

She had always prided herself in her Second Sight: the ability to guess, to intuit, the course of future events with a reasonable degree of accuracy. The cards were her tools, convenient objects that she used to aid her gift. With them, she could draw out of her subconscious the patterns and rhythms that pulsed through the life-flow of the world. It had served her well in her struggle against Bison, saving her life on more than one occasion.

But now that vision was clouded, chaotic, thrown into disarray. The cards stared back up at her, taunting her with their senseless jumble, defying her to find any sort of meaning in them. Sighing, she abandoned the attempt. _The very balance of the world has been disrupted..._ she thought, a cold shiver running down her spine. _This blindness that afflicts me... Never before have I felt its like..._

A soft groan interrupted her brooding, shaking her out of her reverie. She glanced down to where Chun-li lay, curled up on the seat beside her, sleeping at long last. The young woman's fatigue had finally caught up with her; she had collapsed into sleep mere seconds after sitting down.

But it was not a peaceful sleep. Not any longer. A grimace of pain now etched itself across her features, and she tossed and turned as much as her cramped seat would allow. Something was causing her anguish, and it took Rose only a moment's examination to determine what it was.

Chun-li's left hand clutched at her side, holding the place where Vega's claw had caught her during their battle. Beneath her fingers, blood could be seen seeping through the white gauze of her bandage, staining it a dark red. _She's reopened her wounds..._ Rose realized. _How self-centered of me not to notice. I should have thought to deal with them sooner._

Reaching over, the purple-haired woman took Chun-li's hand and gently moved it away from the bleeding area. Once she had done that, she replaced it with her own hand. Despite Rose's care in doing so, the sleeping policewoman's face twisted in a grimace of pain at the touch.

For the next few seconds she simply sat there, eyes shut tight in concentration. Then, a soft purple glow began to coalesce around her hand, spreading out across Chun-li's side until it covered her entire injury. It pulsed with a warm luminescence, as a feeling of peace, of life, seemed to flow from it.

Before long, Rose could feel the skin and tissue beneath her hand knitting together, mending the slashes that Vega's claw had carved. The effect was immediate; Chun-li's pained struggles began to subside, and her breathing returned to normal. Even so, Rose continued to sustain her effort until she was certain that the policewoman was completely healed.

Finally she withdrew her hand, satisfied that Chun-li's wounds would not trouble her further. The healing art had brought her to full recovery. Nothing would remain of the injury, except for the scars that would doubtless mark where she had been stabbed. Those, even Rose's skill could not remove.

Freed from her pain, the policewoman quickly dropped back into deep slumber. Rose continued to watch as she did so, taking no small amount of pleasure from the expression of peace that her patient now wore. Gone was the steel-eyed, professional gaze; gone were the crushing burdens of the responsibility that she had taken onto her shoulders. Freed from all conscious thought, she could no longer maintain the commanding persona of the crack Interpol agent. And in its place, Rose was able to catch a fleeting glimpse of the young woman who lay beneath it.

_Poor child..._ Rose thought sadly. _So full of fire, so consumed by your hunt... It was not enough for Bison to take your father; he has devoured your life, your innocence, in your pursuit of him. How long has it been since you truly knew peace, Chun-li? How many times have you pushed yourself to your breaking point, and beyond? How much more can you sacrifice before you have nothing left to give?_

The policewoman's sleeping form offered no reply. Turning away, Rose began to pick up her cards yet again. _I wish I could promise you that your efforts will be rewarded,_ she continued. _I wish I could tell you that Bison will be defeated, that someday your life will be free from his shadow. There was a time, once, when I believed that good would always triumph over evil. But now..._

Rose looked ahead of her, toward the front of the plane, toward their destination, toward the gathering darkness that she could feel waiting for them.

_But now... I fear._

* * *

Japan, March 13

The Shadowlaw safe house—like most other things related to that organization—had a subtle feel to it that never failed to set Sagat on edge. The walls were white, sterile, enclosing four small rooms that were identical in their barren emptiness. There was little furniture and no decoration, only a few cheap chairs and a small, poorly stocked refrigerator that sat in one of the far corners.

None of the rooms had windows, and while Sagat could understand the security precaution, their absence gnawed at him more than anything else. Deprived of any connection to the outside world, he was left with nothing but blank walls to gaze at, hour after hour.

He sat on the floor, leaning his broad shoulders back against the wall, not trusting the flimsy-looking chairs to bear his weight. His one good eye stared straight ahead of him, locked with dangerous intensity on a single point on the opposite side of the room.

He was close. He could feel it, smell it, taste it. After two years of fruitless searching, his vengeance was almost within reach. The shards of Sagat's shattered honor, the remains of his crushed prestige, all howled out together for blood.

And yet here he waited, doing nothing. That, after all, was what Bison had ordered him to do. And who was he to disobey his master?

Sagat's lip curled in disgust. _Such a good little servant I have become..._ he thought contemptuously. _A whimpering cur, ready to roll over and bark for the one who holds my leash... When did I fall so low?_

Without warning, a shrill beeping noise interrupted his thoughts. Immediately, the giant reached down to snatch up the communications handset that lay next to him, bringing it up to his ear. "Report," he snapped harshly.

"Control, this is Doll 09," came the young girl's voice, dull and lifeless as ever. "Beg to report that the assigned search area has been successfully covered. No sign of the target. Request further orders."

Sagat let out a deep breath. "Well done, Xiayu," he replied, quieter now. Then: "There has been no change in the situation. You may move on to your next search pattern."

"Acknowledged."

With that, the connection clicked off, plunging the room back into silence.

* * *

Evening had come to Japan.

The setting sun painted the clouds above Tokyo's Narita airport with a glorious array of color. Oranges, yellows and reds all streamed together, forming a vibrant kaleidoscope of glowing warmth, a stunning piece of artwork, the like of which no mortal artist could ever equal.

That sky was also—as usual—swarming with all manner of aircraft. At every moment they were landing, taking off, circling through the air in holding patterns, all part of an intricately orchestrated flow of comings and goings. At the same time, on the ground beneath, maintenance crews were racing back and forth with their equipment, checking, unloading, refueling. Everything worked together, precisely timed, precisely orchestrated, precisely managed.

Amidst all the normal hustle and bustle, there was one plane that received special attention. The air traffic controllers had been informed ahead of time to expect it, and by the time it finally appeared on their radar screens a runway had long since been reserved for its use. It was able to begin its descent without delay, and soon taxied to a halt next to one of the loading bridges that connected to the main terminal.

Inside, the feel of the deceleration woke Rose from the catnap that she had been indulging in. A brief glance out her window confirmed that they had indeed reached their destination. She stood up from her seat, stretching her legs briefly to work out the stiffness that the hours of cramped sitting had caused.

Then she reached down to where Chun-li lay curled up in her seat, still sound asleep. "Inspector, it's time to wake up," she said, giving the policewoman's shoulder a small shake. "We've arrived."

Slowly, Chun-li's eyes began to blink open. "Wha—? Oh, it's you Rose..." she mumbled, still not fully awake. "What was it you were saying?"

"We've arrived in Japan," Rose repeated. As she spoke she caught a flicker of movement out of the corner of her eye, causing her to look out the window once again. Over in the terminal, she could see several figures dressed in Interpol uniforms, all looking intently out at the plane. "And it seems as though a welcoming committee is already waiting for us."

This time, what she said registered. Chun-li's eyes snapped into focus as she vigorously shook her head to clear the last vestiges of sleep from it. "Right," she said, her voice regaining its normal professional tone. "Let's go." Swiftly she rose to her feet, making a beeline for the plane's exit with Rose following closely behind her.

No sooner had the flight crew secured the mouth of the loading bridge to the plane's side than the two women swept through it, hurrying into the terminal on the other side. They were met immediately by the Interpol officers, the oldest of whom stepped up ahead of his companions.

Rose quietly sized him up. He had a round face, one creased by wrinkles in a pattern that showed him no stranger to warm smiles. What little remained of his balding hair was black, shot through with grey. In his right hand he clutched a cane, which he used to support himself as he walked toward them, limping slightly as he did so.

He stopped a few feet away from the two women, bowing deeply. "Welcome, Inspector Chun-li," he said in heavily accented English. "It is a great pleasure to have you with us."

Chun-li and Rose each returned the bow. "The pleasure is mutual," Chun-li replied. "And don't worry about the language. Rose and I both understand Japanese."

"Ah, that does make things easier..." said the Interpol officer, switching back to his mother tongue with a look of relief. "No disrespect intended to our western friends, of course, but it's a dreadful language that they've created for themselves..."

Chun-li nodded, a rueful smile crossing her face at the memory of endless, infuriating hours spent studying and practicing arcane rules of grammar. "I won't argue with that."

The middle-aged man grinned. "But where are my manners? Permit me to introduce myself: I am Inspector Takahashi, your liaison to both the Japanese Interpol branch, and the local police force. I will serve as your go-between for all equipment or personnel requests. Simply put, I am here to assist you in your investigation any way I can."

"Thank you," Chun-li said. "I don't doubt that we're going to need all the help you can give us if we're going to beat Bison to whatever it is that he's after."

Inspector Takahashi nodded, his expression becoming serious at the reminder of what it was they were up against. Rose took the opportunity to pose a question. "Have there been any new developments since we left London?"

"Yes, a few," replied the Japanese man. "Based on the stills that were sent over in the communique, we've managed to locate the family whose son took the video. We've moved them to one of our secure locations in Tokyo."

"Guarded?" asked Chun-li.

"At all times," confirmed Inspector Takahashi. "We don't intend to let Bison repeat the trick he pulled back in London. None of them so much as go to the bathroom without one of our people in there with them."

The policewoman nodded. "Good. Have you asked them any questions? What do they know about the tape?"

"Not much more than we do, I'm afraid. According to their statement, they were afraid it was—and I quote—'some kind of secret government project' that their children had stumbled onto. Understandably, they had decided to keep quiet about it until they could figure out what to do. But they never got the chance; the tape was stolen from them less than a week later."

"Anything else?"

"Besides that, precious little. We're trying to see what leads we can get on whoever stole the tape in the first place, whether it was the poor fellow in London that did it himself, or whether he was just a link in the chain. We've also sent a survey team to the island itself, to see if we can't figure out just what happened there."

"The island..." Rose mused, almost to herself. "Yes... That may well be key..." She glanced up at her two companions. "I strongly suggest that we visit there as well. We may be able to learn much that will aid us in our search."

Inspector Takahashi glanced over to Chun-li, who nodded in agreement. "Very well..." he said. "I will get a helicopter ready as quickly as I can."

* * *

Thailand, March 13

The Killer Bee stood at attention, arms crossed behind her back. Around her on every side were the glowing monitors and blinking indicators of the Shadowlaw control center. The continuous, electronic hum of the place filled her ears, but she disregarded it. The heat given off by the various devices was oppressive, but she paid it no heed. She was waiting. Waiting for a command.

Her eyes were locked straight ahead of her, unwavering, unchanging. Thanks to Bison's control, it was seldom that anything resembling a conscious thought was allowed to cross the minds of his Dolls. Their souls were smothered, trapped in a gaping void of mindlessness, unaware even of what it was that had been stolen from them.

And yet—through it all—a realization managed to break free inside Cammy. An idea, a feeling, felt with enough force to rise above her master's will for one fleeting instant before it was dragged back down again. It was far too weak for her to put words to it, but if she could have, they would have been something like these:

_It always hurts worse when I'm alone..._

Bison had left the command center hours ago to oversee the preparations for the group that had been sent to Japan. For all that time, Cammy had waited. Alone. No task to accomplish. No master to serve. Nothing at all, save for an aching, gnawing emptiness inside her that she could feel, but lacked the ability to understand.

Hour after endless hour dragged by, each one bringing no change, until finally the door leading into the command center slid open and Bison stepped through. Cammy, of course, did not turn to look as he entered. She did not need to; she knew her master's presence. She also knew that he was irritated.

Without a word to her, he strode over to his throne-like chair and took his seat. Only then did he speak. "Get me Sagat."

Obediently, Cammy found the appropriate control panel and began to enter the proper sequence. Within moments, the connection had been established. There was a quick series of tones, and then Sagat's voice could be heard echoing from the command center speakers. "What is it?"

"A complication." Bison spat the words out like a curse. "I've just received word from one of my sources. Interpol has recovered the tape. They've seen what it contains."

Sagat growled at the news. "How much do they suspect?"

"Too much. They've guessed enough of what it means to send a team to Japan. Their plane departed Heathrow hours ago. They've probably already arrived."

"Inconvenient..."

The crime lord's eyes narrowed. "I would not treat the news so calmly if I were you. You are running out of time."

"I fail to see the threat," replied Sagat. "Interpol only has one fighter worth mentioning, and with the Dolls and Balrog we outnumber her fourteen to one."

"Fourteen to _two_..." corrected Bison, his tone ice cold. "The fortune-teller is with her."

Silence. For several moments, the hiss of static over the connection was the loudest sound in the room. Finally, Sagat spoke. "They've joined forces?"

"Indeed." Bison stood as he spoke, rising from his chair. "Listen carefully, Sagat. Kill the Interpol bitch if you have the opportunity, but you are to avoid confronting the fortune-teller at all costs. She is mine to deal with, and mine alone."

"Considering that she is hunting us, avoiding her may not be as easy as you make it sound," Sagat observed neutrally. "Not if you want this mission to succeed."

Bison grunted. "_If_ it does become necessary to engage her, then above all else _keep your mind clear_. She is a master of illusion; if you let down your guard around her—even for a moment—she will have you seeing anything she wants you to see."

"I understand."

"Do you?" Bison asked, skepticism in his voice. "That we shall see... I warn you now, Sagat. Vega was lucky. If you allow my prize to fall into the hands of my enemies, I will make certain that you do not escape me as he did." Then, before Sagat had a chance to respond, Bison made a short motion of his hand toward Cammy. In obedience to her master's unspoken order, the young woman terminated the connection.

The room became quiet again. For a few moments, however, Bison simply stood there, stroking his chin, deep in thought. An unreadable expression was on his face.

After a short while, he straightened up. Without a word to Cammy he made for the room's exit, passing through the door and out to the hallway beyond. The door closed behind him, and once more the Killer Bee was left in the lifeless confines of the command center.

Alone.

* * *

The evening breeze, sharp and cold, whispered across the island's rocky face, carrying with it the salt smell of the sea. Off in the distance the faint cry of gulls could be heard drifting over the water. Closer, the waves crashed up against the shore, hurling their spray up into the air. In and out. In and out. The timeless, ceaseless rhythm of the ocean.

Save for that, all was still. Nature seemed to be observing a strange decorum over that mound of stone, treating it with a stifled silence that would have felt more fitting in a great cathedral. Or a library.

Or a tomb.

Chun-li stood at the island's highest point, the wind blowing gently around her as she overlooked the carnage that had been wrought there. She felt a shiver run down her spine, partly from the cold, mostly from what she saw.

Whatever power had been unleashed there, it had effectively leveled the island. What little remained of it was now a ravaged ruin. Shattered rock lay everywhere, the broken debris of its once-proud summit, filling the huge craters and furrows that had been torn into the solid stone of the ground.

She shook her head in disbelief. The images of the tape, awful though they had been, had not prepared her for the sheer scale of the devastation. _What could have caused something like this?_ she asked, silently. The sound of the wind and the waves was her only answer.

Slowly, she turned and walked over to where Rose stood, a good distance away. "Find anything?" she asked.

The colorfully dressed woman glanced back at her, then nodded, her expression pensive. "Yes, I have. Indeed, far more than I had hoped to."

Chun-li raised an eyebrow. "You don't look very happy about it."

"I don't much like what I have found. I had expected that by now all but the faintest traces of our quarry would have faded into oblivion. But that is not the case. Whatever happened here, it was of such magnitude that its echoes still linger, long after the event."

"After all this time?" asked the policewoman. "What could cause something like that?

"I could," Rose replied, a brief smile crossing her face. "And so could Bison. But this is not of his doing, and it is certainly not of my own. No, a new power has entered the game, one that I have no knowledge of at all."

"What kind of power?"

"Why don't you listen for yourself?" asked Rose, invitingly.

Chun-li frowned. "Are you serious?"

"Very much so," was the older woman's response. "In fact, I suspect it may be extremely profitable for you to have the experience yourself."

"Rose, I've never had any training in this kind of thing. Sensing the ki flow given off by a living thing is one thing, but what you're describing..."

"...is almost exactly the same, in practice." Rose turned to look out across the island. "The difference is only a matter of focus. Here, there is no single source to concentrate your attention toward; you must assemble the picture out of a thousand tiny fragments of the whole. Relax. Let your mind's eye wander, let your subconscious search for patterns and connections. Listen for the echoes."

Chun-li hesitated, unsure of how to put Rose's cryptic instructions into practice. Tentatively, she closed her eyes; it felt like the appropriate thing to do. _Might as well try..._ she thought. _Just like sensing ki normally, except I widen my focus... And relax, can't forget to relax..._

At first, nothing seemed to happen. She felt nothing beyond the ordinary, nothing she had not felt hundreds of times before. She cleared her mind of thought, as she had been taught long ago to do, focusing outward. But aside from Rose's presence beside her, and the much fainter presences of the helicopter crew on the other side of the island, there was only silent emptiness.

Moment after moment passed, until—just when Chun-li had been about to give up—something began to stir inside her mind. A single, tiny awareness, like a slender thread weaving its way through her. It was far too fleeting to make any sense out of it, but it awakened fresh hope in her.

And soon there were more. A second, a third, a fourth thread, flowing in all directions, their paths crossing, diverging, intertwining. She could see that they all were related somehow, that they were all part of some larger tapestry, but try though she might, she could not understand how they fit together. There were too many gaps, too much confusion!

_Easy, child. Don't force it._ Rose's voice could suddenly be heard in her thoughts. _Just relax. Let it come._

Forcing herself to obey, Chun-li abandoned all attempts to decipher what she was experiencing. As she did, more threads sprang into existence, first one at a time, then by the tens, then by the hundreds. They spun around her, a swirling, coursing, invisible whirlpool. Moving completely by instinct now, she allowed herself to be caught up in the flow, let it carry her. It was then that she began to see the connections.

As she watched, the threads began to merge together. Each time they did so, they formed a larger, more substantial thread, and greater part of the overall picture was revealed. The nearness of the answer was an almost physical pain; she knew she was close, so very close. If she could understand just one crucial facet, if she could just make one vital connection...

And then, without warning, all the divergent threads fell into place.

And she saw.

The tapestry was complete, the image in her mind faint, but all too clear. She understood what manner of power had been unleashed on the islands surface. She saw.

Hatred.

Rage.

Fury.

Pride.

Bloodlust.

Corruption.

Destruction.

Death.

With a cry, Chun-li wrenched her mind free of the vision. For a moment, the world seemed to spin circles around her, until finally it righted itself. Blinking her eyes, she saw that she was standing on the island, with Rose at her side, a concerned expression on her face. The older woman waited a moment before speaking. "Now do you understand?"

The policewoman nodded, still shaken. "Yes... Yes, I do."

"Good..." Rose said. "Keep the memory of this experience with you; it will serve you well. You now know the feel of that which we seek."

"And what about Bison?"

Rose shuddered. "Let us pray that he is still far behind us in this hunt. This power... Bison must _never_ be allowed to possess it. Above all else, at all costs, we must find it before he does."

* * *

Inside the Shadowlaw safe house, Sagat had resumed his staring match with the wall, trying to block out the doubts that even now nagged at him. His conversation with Bison had left him ill at ease; despite his outward calm, the news that Interpol was closing in had been disturbing. It was not, however, for the reasons that Bison had intended.

Glancing down, he looked at the small folder that he held in his hands. It was a dossier from Shadowlaw's intelligence division, one that he had studied several times already. After hearing Bison's warning, however, he had felt the need to read it once more.

"...and since her father had already discovered this information, it became imperative that he be eliminated as quickly as possible," went the paragraph that Sagat's eye had landed on. "Since he was still operating in deep cover in our ranks, this was easily accomplished. Interpol received no official confirmation of his death until several months later, but even before then Chun-li began to suspect that something had happened. It was at this point that she herself began to take active interest in Shadowlaw..."

_As though I needed any reminders of Bison's evil..._ Sagat thought grimly. _He murders an honorable man, and in doing so takes a young girl's father from her. It sours my stomach simply to read this. And yet..._

Sagat flipped through the dossier's pages, coming at last to the photograph section. A half-dozen different images of the young Interpol agent, some taken by Shadowlaw spy cameras, some obtained from Interpol files themselves. _And yet here I sit, planning to do the same. This girl is now hunting us, and if she is the manner of foe I take her to be, nothing short of death will stop her. What's more, if I did face her and allowed her to live, Bison would surely kill me for disobeying his command. Either way, my vengeance would be forever incomplete. I cannot allow that to happen!_

But his words were hollow, unconvincing even to himself. The stark reality of what was being demanded of him kept echoing through his head. _Murder..._ it whispered. _You're going to murder an innocent for the sake of your own petty goals. This time, the blood will be on your own two hands... Can you really bring yourself to do that?_

"I can..." the giant growled. "I _must_..."

His protestations were ignored. _This isn't who you are!_ pressed the tiny voice of his conscience. _How much longer can you keep up this act? How much longer can you keep on denying what you know to be true?_

Sagat clenched his fist, shame and anger roiling within him. "I've gone too far..." he bit out, each word tearing itself painfully from his throat. "I'm in too deep. I have no choice but to—"

Without warning, Sagat's defense was interrupted by the harsh beeping of the communications handset. Choking back a snarl, Sagat reached down and snatched it up once again. "What is it?" he demanded angrily.

"Control, this is Doll 05," came the girl's voice. "Beg to report that the target has been located."

"The target..." For a moment, Sagat simply stood there, dumbstruck. "You mean... you found him?"

"Affirmative. Identity of the target has been confirmed. Location is an alley in the south-eastern section of the town. Address is..."

Sagat barely heard her. The full importance of what she had said was still sinking in. They had found him... After his years of searching, after so much fruitless waiting and so many false hopes...

"Contact the rest of the team!" The giant was already moving for the door as he spoke the words. "Get them there as fast as possible, but don't make a move against the target until I arrive!"

The Doll gave her usual clipped acknowledgment, and immediately broke the connection. By that time, Sagat had exited the safe house and was dashing toward the white, unmarked van that would carry him to his destination. A grim excitement coursed through his soul. Interpol? They were too late. He had the chance to end it all, and neither they nor anyone else were going to stop him.

It would end tonight.


	7. Gauntlet

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Street Fighter in any way, shape or form. It and all associated characters, trademarks, etc. are owned by Capcom. I'm just telling some stories about them.

* * *

Chapter Seven: Gauntlet

Japan, March 13

Cold, piercing moonlight shone down through the cloudless sky, casting dim shadows on the streets below. It was one of the few sources of illumination; streetlights were rare this far on the city's outskirts. The pale radiance it cast was just enough to make out the details of the surrounding buildings: small shops mostly, along with the occasional gas station.

Off in the distance the noise of traffic could faintly be heard, drifting through the still night air from one of the busier districts. No cars could be seen nearby, however. Night's advance had put the humble little commercial district to sleep, closing the stores and clearing the streets of their customers.

But that night, the streets were not quite so deserted as first appearances might suggest. In the shadows, the faint outline of a figure could be seen moving along one of the building walls.

The way the figure moved was peculiar. Its gait was swift, yet also strangely erratic: sometimes veering from side to side, sometimes lurching forward. From time to time it would stop in its tracks, looking wildly around as though searching for some hidden danger. In this manner it made its way down the length of the street, and once it had reached the end, dashed across to the other side. As it did so, it was forced to step out from concealment.

Moonlight fell upon the figure, revealing it as the same homeless man who earlier that day had been seated in the alley. The red headband was still clutched in his hand. His hunched frame radiated agitation; even as he stumbled across the street his eyes were ceaselessly darting to and fro, searching his surroundings with manic intensity.

Within seconds he reached the other side of the street, loosing himself in the shadows once more. His dim figure stumbled onward, until at last it arrived at the entrance to a narrow alleyway next to one of the stores. He immediately ducked inside.

It was a blind alley, dead-ending in a brick wall several yards down. The only feature of interest was a large dumpster in the far corner, filled to overflowing with garbage bags and other refuse. Just what he had been looking for. Stuffing the headband into the pocket of his jeans for a moment, he pulled himself up onto the rim of the dumpster and looked inside.

That night's menu was meager, in his estimation. Not that it was ever particularly good. He began to dig through the dumpster, still glancing around nervously as he did so. A soft muttering, barely audible, began to escape his lips; he seemed to be talking to himself as he worked, but what he said could not be heard.

The search went on for several minutes; it was not until he began untying the bags themselves and rooting through them that he began to find food that he was hungry enough to eat. Finally he settled on a particularly lucky discovery: a small pack of _bento_, still unopened. Prize in hand, the young man dropped back down to the alley floor. With trembling hands he unwrapped the covering surrounding his dinner and took a bite.

It was stale, but that was of little consequence. Such matters had long since ceased to hold much concern for him. It was food, and it would serve to keep him alive for another day. Even if the very thought of facing that day filled him with despair.

In all, it took him only a few bites to finish off the meal. He did not go back to look for more; that one package had been enough for him. The young man buried his head in his hands, remembering all the times Ken had teased him about his ravenous appetite. Yet now, a single, meager snack was enough to carry him an entire day without discomfort.

And was it his imagination, or did his hunger continue to diminish as each day went by?

He shut his eyes tight, trying to ignore the evidence of his senses. He would not—could not!—allow himself to consider that. If he was to hang on to what remained of his sanity, he could not accept that things were moving in _that_ direction. The young vagrant's breathing grew ragged as his hands clenched in a deathgrip on his head. With all his will he tried not to think, not to understand, not to accept what was happening to him.

So caught up in his inner struggle was he, that at first he failed to recognize a new sound that had been added to the night air, echoing faintly off the building walls. The sound of approaching footsteps.

When at last he did notice them, it was with a jolt of fear that in an instant wiped all previous thoughts from his mind. He scuttled back into the shadows, curling himself up as tightly as he could manage and praying that whoever it was would simply pass by. He could do nothing but hold his breath as he waited, listening as the steps slowly made their way down the street.

He could feel the ki aura emanating from whoever it was: strong, dangerous, unrestrained. Each footfall brought the presence nearer to the mouth of the alley. Soon it was just a few feet from the corner, then just at the edge, and then...

A figure stepped into view. Even in the faint moonlight, the young man could make out most of the newcomer's features. He was tall, extremely muscular, with dark skin and boxing gloves on each hand. His mouth was curled upward in a sneer, and in his eyes something brutal and predatory festered.

He stopped at the entrance to the alley, looked down it for a few moments, then spoke in English. "So. Wanna play hide-and-go-seek, do ya?"

A knot of cold terror settled into the pit of the young man's stomach. Slowly, he got to his feet, backing up until his back was pressed against the farthest wall of the blind alley. "Stay away from me!" he yelled, his voice hoarse.

The stranger's only response was a laugh. "Sorry punk. That ain't gonna happen." To emphasize his words, he drove one of his gloved fists into his palm. Then he began to move again, walking casually down the alley.

Like a cornered animal, the cowering vagrant looked in every direction for some way of escape. He found none. The newcomer barred the only way out of the alley. "Who... who are you?" asked the young man desperately. "What do you want with me?"

"Name's Balrog," the newcomer replied, coming to a halt several paces away. "And it ain't none of your business what I want. All you gotta to know is that I got orders to collect you, and that's what I'm gonna do." His gloved hands came up as he spoke, and he settled back into a boxer's stance.

The young man barely heard what was said. He could not understand—could scarcely even believe—what was going on. Everything seemed unreal, like a dream spiraling endlessly down into a nightmare. _This can't be happening. This can't be happening! Not this... Not now!_

He watched as Balrog approached. The young man's thoughts were in chaos, but his eyes... those were operating almost of their own accord—studying, cataloging, analyzing the boxer's every movement. _He's hanging back. Trying to feel out my strength before he makes his move. But what will that move be?_

On the outside, the homeless man remained completely motionless—except for his hands. Those were trembling, harder and harder the closer Balrog came. He tried to clench his fists, biting fiercely into his lower lip, trying to focus his attention on the pain. It was of little help. The only thing he could see was the hulking figure standing opposite him, fists upraised. His assailant. His opponent.

His enemy.

_No..._ Desperately he shook his head, straining with every fiber of his will to block out those thoughts. _Not again! Never again! I have to get out of here, now!_

He forced himself to look at the boxer again, forced himself to dissect every minutiae of his attacker's stance. _I see contempt growing in his eyes. He's convinced I'm no threat to him. He'll probably attack soon. Now his weight shifts slightly forward. His front knee bends almost imperceptibly. From that distance, it'll have to be a lunge. With his right fist._

All those realizations and more coursed through his mind in an instant, flowing at a level far deeper than conscious thought. He knew immediately what he would do.

Balrog exploded forward with a roar, right arm outstretched, propelled by a huge burst of ki that sent him hurtling toward his target. The boxer covered the distance between them in an heartbeat, his strike landing with bone-shattering force right where the young man used to be.

At the last possible instant, his prey had leapt into the air, kicking off the alley wall behind him to soar over his attacker. Unable to stop, Balrog's fist plowed straight into the alley wall, crashing through the bricks until his arm was embedded up to the shoulder.

The boxer tore his arm free with a snarl, spinning around to attack again. But the homeless man was already gone, fleeing the alley as though the very hounds of hell were at his heels.

* * *

Chun-li stood in the doorway of the quiet, darkened hotel room, feeling around the inside wall for the lightswitch. After a few moments' search she found it, flipping it on.

The lights in the ceiling above burst to life, revealing a small yet well-furnished space, with a bed against the left wall, a door in the right wall leading off to a bathroom, and a balcony off the far wall overlooking the city streets.

_Home sweet home_, she thought ruefully. She had never before stayed at this particular hotel, of course, but she was intimately acquainted with its type. She had been living out of rooms such as these for more than a year now, as she constantly moved from place to place, following Shadowlaw's scattered trail from nation to nation.

She walked into the room, closing the door behind her, and slumped down onto the bed. _I'm not quite sure how I should feel about today_, she mused. _We did find something of what we were looking for; at least a clue to what it could be. But now what? Is it just a waiting game, waiting for Bison to make the next move? That doesn't sit well with me._

Her expression furrowed into a frown as she pieced back through the events of the day. After identifying the traces of whatever force had annihilated the island, she and Rose had attempted to discern what had happened to it. Their efforts had met with frustratingly little success. There was no trail left that could be followed, no sense whatsoever of what had happened to the dark presence, or where it had gone.

Sighing, she reached up and began to undo her hair, letting it tumble down behind her as she removed the white fabric that held the buns in place. She ran her fingers mechanically through the brown strands, working out the kinks, her thoughts all the while on the larger puzzle before her. _We need to find some more information on whatever destroyed that island, and quickly. Every moment we delay is a moment we cede to Bison. There's got to be a way to learn more about it. But what?_

She wracked her brain, just as she had been doing for the past several hours, but to no avail. They seemed to have reached yet another dead end, with no way of bypassing it in sight.

Finally, she gave up, knowing from experience that sleep would serve her better than more hours of fruitless speculation. In a matter of minutes, she had slipped out of her blue uniform and into some more comfortable nightclothes, before turning off the lights and lying down in the bed.

Even there, however, she found little peace. There was an anxiety hanging over her, a strange feeling of apprehension that she could not quite put her finger on. It felt somehow as though a terrible fate was being cast, as though something unseen was hanging in the balance at that very moment.

As though, in some small way, everything would be decided by the events of that night...

* * *

The homeless man ran.

Darkened storefronts blurred past him on either side, as he poured every ounce of effort he could muster into staying ahead of his pursuer. Behind him, he could hear the echoes of Balrog's heavy footsteps, and the large man's labored breathing. Straining every muscle, the young man increased his speed even more.

He could hear the distance between them increasing, knew that he was pulling away. For the first moment since the attack, some measure of hope entered into him. _I'm faster than he is. He can't catch me. I... I can make it. I think I'm going to make it._

It was then that he saw the girl.

She appeared without warning, stepping out of an alley further up the street. Her features were hard to make out; most of them were covered by a red, hooded overcoat. Yet even in the faint light he could discern her slight figure and short-cropped brown hair.

He could sense her as well, and yet... there was something subtly wrong about her presence: as though there was something sick, something broken inside her. Without a word she turned to face him, standing directly in his path.

"Get away! Get away from here!" The cry tore itself from the vagrant's throat, but it had no effect on the girl. Not daring to slow his pace, he tried to alter his course to avoid her. But to his shock, the girl moved with him, continuing to block his path. Confused and desperate, he raised his arms to simply shove her out of the way.

He never got the chance. As he bore down on her she flung off the coat, revealing a dark blue bodysuit underneath. Then, before he even had a chance to comprehend this new development, she reached over her back and grasped the hilt of the katana that was sheathed there. With one fluid motion, she unsheathed it and swung it in an overhead slice.

Acting on pure reflex, the young man flung himself sideways, the blade hissing through the air mere inches to his right. The girl immediately matched his leap, moving in perfect parallel to him while swinging the blade back upward in a diagonal slash.

There was no time for a controlled evasion. The vagrant hurled himself into a fall as best he could, hitting the ground with his shoulder and sliding several feet before coming to a stop. But it worked; again the blade missed its target.

The girl was on him before he could stand. Still barring his path, she held her sword for a downward stab. He managed to roll backward just in time, causing her strike to hit the pavement instead of his flesh.

Shooting to his feet, he whirled around and began to flee back the way he had come, only to see that Balrog was closing in from that direction. Trapped between the two attackers, he caught sight of another alley on the left side of the street that offered the chance of escape. He sprinted for it.

Inside, his mind was in disarray, his thoughts lost in a horrified jumble of chaos. He could not even begin to make sense out of what was happening, except for his raw understanding that he needed to get away from these attackers, and the knowledge of what would happen if he did not.

He reached the narrow alley and sped through it, his pursuers hot on his heels. Upon reaching the outlet, he spun right and dashed in that direction—only to stop dead in his tracks.

There, coming down the street toward him was another girl, a wooden nunchaku in her hands. She began to twirl it as she approached, the weapon hissing through the air as it wound around her in an intricate, deadly pattern. Choking back a cry of despair, the young man turned yet again, running in the opposite direction.

_They're herding me._ The realization shook him to his very core. _The tactics—the boxer flushing me out, these girls positioned everywhere along the route, chasing me, but always leaving a single route open... They're trying to drive me somewhere. It's all part of their plan!_

Summoning every last bit of willpower, the homeless man forced himself to think, even as his feet pounded across the pavement. _I... I can't keep on running the way I am. There'll only be more of them, waiting for me. The one chance... the only chance... is if I can get out of their net. If I can do something they aren't expecting..._

Swerving suddenly, he raced toward a small shop that stood on the streetside, one member of a solid wall of storefronts that formed a barrier between that street and the one on the other side. Its windows were darkened—it had long since closed for the night. Behind him his three assailants still followed.

He hit the shop's door at full tilt, smashing it open without slowing his pace. _I remember seeing a service entrance once, when I was in the streets behind this store. If these attackers don't have anyone positioned there, I might be able to break free!_

He sped between the aisles, then ducked through the doorway into the rear part of the shop, eyes franticly searching. Not a moment too soon, he spotted it: a small, dingy wooden door. He burst through that one as well, emerging out into the street beyond.

Without a moment's pause, he ran for all he was worth in the exact direction that the nunchaku-wielding girl had tried to prevent him from going. Ahead of him the street was clear, and hope began to rise in him at the sight. _Maybe... Just maybe..._

Then he noticed something out of the corner of his eye. He glanced up, only to see two more girls running along the rooftops on either side of the street. Gaining on him. _They're trying to cut me off!_

He put on an extra burst of speed, but it was to no avail; they were faster. The girls shot ahead, then in perfect unison leapt down from the rooftops to block his way. One whirled a long staff into a defensive position, while the other—this one darker-skinned than the others—brandished a spear.

Despair gripped the homeless man's heart as he slowed to a stop. _It's no use..._ the words echoed through his mind. _There are too many of them, and they're too fast. I... I can't get away. I can't get away!_ The thought filled him with such panic that for a moment he was simply rooted to the spot.

Then came rapid footsteps from behind him; Balrog and the other two had caught up. The sound was enough to set him running again, although it no longer had anything to do with escape.

It was merely prolonging the inevitable.

His gait became dogged, hopeless, and soon he was stumbling frequently. His hands were shaking uncontrollably, and there were times when he seemed almost blind to his surroundings, his eyes wide and unfocused. He clutched at his head as he veered back and forth, as though dodging invisible phantoms.

His pursuers slowed in turn, keeping pace with him, driving him on with their weapons in whatever direction they chose. Until, at last, they arrived at their destination.

It was a construction site—or rather, it had once been one. Sitting on the far outskirts of the town, it had long ago been abandoned by whoever had financed it. All that remained was a crumbling hulk of metal and mortar, the building's wasted, half-finished skeleton. Dead silence hung over the surroundings, save for the ragged breathing of the young vagrant as he stood before it.

He glanced back, over his shoulder. The girls—now seven in all—stood motionless in a half circle behind him, barring his exit. There was no way to go but forward. And so he began to walk, not knowing what awaited him.

One thing, at least, he could discern as he drew closer. There was another presence there. Brooding, powerful... and somehow, familiar as well. The young man walked toward it, resisting the temptation to run, convinced of its futility. It would be decided here, whatever this madness was. There was nothing to do but to face it.

Carefully, he made his way through the broken remains of walls and the bare metal girders. Soon the girls behind him were lost to sight. He continued onward, toward the center of the ruins, toward whatever awaited, coming closer with each faltering step. Eventually, he rounded the last corner, and saw who it was that he had been driven to encounter.

The man sat on the ground, legs crossed in the posture of meditation. His back was toward the homeless man, but even so there was no mistaking the immense, scar-covered frame, the corded muscles, the battle aura that emanated from him. The young vagrant's eyes widened in astonishment. "Sagat...?"

Sagat rose to his feet, turning to face the newcomer, his face unreadable. After a long moment of silence, he finally spoke. "Ryu."


	8. In Night's Shadow

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Street Fighter in any way, shape or form. It and all associated characters, trademarks, etc. are owned by Capcom. I'm just telling some stories about them.

* * *

Chapter Eight: In Night's Shadow

Japan, March 13

The two men stood, transfixed, in the ruins of the construction site, eyes locked one with another. Their bodies were framed in the pale moonlight, one towering and erect, the other hunched in an almost feral posture. A stray night breeze whispered around them as they stood there; apart from that, no sound could be heard.

Finally, Sagat spoke. "You have changed much in two years, Ryu. I hardly recognize you as the man I fought back then."

"Sagat..." Ryu said the name again, as though by repeating it he could come to grips with the giant's unexpected appearance. "I... don't understand... What's going on? What are you doing here?"

"I am here to fight you," Sagat responded shortly. "That is all you need to know."

"Fight?" The young man shrank back, his eyes darting back and forth feverishly. "No! Sagat, I... I can't!"

"That is not your choice to make," came the grim reply. "The Dolls will hunt you down if you try to run. There is no escaping this. Not for either of us."

For a few moments there was silence. Then, at last, Ryu spoke. "You don't care whether I am willing or not?" he asked. "You're just going to attack me?"

Sagat's only answer was to raise his hands, dropping into a fighting stance.

Ryu made no move in reply. He remained in his hunched posture, his eyes hopelessly searching Sagat's face. When he spoke, it was with resignation in his voice. "I see..." he said quietly. "You, also, have changed much in two years, Sagat."

The words stung the Muay Thai master. Eyes flashing, he dropped his guard and stood erect again. "Changed?" he snarled. "Yes, I have changed! I have changed more than you imagine. When you carved this scar into my chest you changed me into something less than a man. And now, you will taste the fruit of that change!"

The young man shook his head in protest. "How? Why?" he asked desperately. "What did I do to you in that fight that would make you forsake your honor like this?"

The questions hung in the air, unanswered—and to Sagat, it seemed as though the silence itself was accusing him. He knew what the answer was, of course, but he could not bring himself to speak it. Without words, that hesitancy screamed back at him all his doubts and fears about the course he had chosen.

At last, the giant turned away, putting his back to his opponent. Only then was he able to admit the reason behind his actions. "You beat me."

The words tasted like bile in Sagat's mouth, not least because he knew how petty they were. But clenching his teeth, he went on. "You, an eighteen year-old pup, a foreigner who had never set foot in a competition before that day... you _beat_ me."

"You... cannot understand the magnitude of that disgrace, Ryu. A disgrace to myself, and to my nation, and to my art. I was the Emperor of Muay Thai; I was a hero to my people! And I lost, to an unknown Japanese whelp."

"Do you know what it is to be reviled by your homeland, Ryu? Do you know what it is to have your own student spit in your face? Do you know what it is like to be stripped of all honor, everything you've trained and fought and bled your whole life to attain?"

There was an intensity in Sagat's his words that surprised even himself. He had never intended to reveal what he had said to his enemy. But for some reason he could not explain, it was suddenly important to him—more important than anything else—that he make the object of his vengeance _understand_ what it was that had driven him to this act.

"In that one, single moment, I lost everything that I had once lived for. It almost destroyed me—and perhaps it should have. But it did not. In the darkness of that despair, I grasped hold of something that could take its place, something that could give me purpose enough to go on existing. Revenge."

"From the moment I was released from the hospital after our battle, I was searching for you, Ryu. But it was no use. You were long since gone, and no matter how hard I tried, no matter how much of my money I spent, I could not find you. Soon I had exhausted all of my resources, and yet I was no closer to hunting you down than when I first began."

After saying those words, Sagat once again fell silent. If what he had said so far had pained him to admit, what came next was far worse. He desperately did not want to continue—and yet he felt a desperate need to do so. "It was then that Bison approached me."

The young man's brow furrowed. "Bison?"

"He is the master of a secret criminal empire known as Shadowlaw," answered Sagat. "Those fighters—the ones that flushed you from your hiding place and drove you here—are his servants." The giant then clenched his fists, steeling himself for the admission that would come next. "As am I."

Ryu's eyes widened in shock. "You?" he asked incredulously. "_You_ serve such a man?"

His back still turned, Sagat closed his eye. "It was... in our mutual interest," he replied heavily. "He too is interested in you, for reasons of his own. He offered me a position in the ranks of his soldiers, promised me that he would use his resources to track you down. In return, he asked that I serve him. And that, once I had beaten you, I would deliver you to him."

"And... you agreed?" A look of disbelief was etched into Ryu's face, disbelief that the warrior he had faced in combat two years ago could have come to this.

But Sagat's lip only twisted upwards in a bitter smile. "Of course I agreed," he said. "Why would I not? Only those with honor to lose are concerned with disgracing themselves. But the failures, the hopeless, the damned... they know no such restraint."

"But... you don't—"

"No!" the giant snarled in sudden rage, whirling around to face his adversary once more. "No more words! It ends now. Defend yourself!" With a roar Sagat charged, moving with a speed that should have been impossible for someone as huge as he was. The giant's fist shot out in a punch aimed at Ryu's face, but the boy leapt sideways at the last minute, his figure blurring as he dodged the attack.

Instantly, Sagat swung his arm into a forearm strike, following Ryu's path of movement. Ryu twisted down to one knee, allowing the blow to pass over him, but no sooner had he done so than Sagat whipped his leg up for a crushing axe kick aimed at Ryu's collarbone.

From his position on the ground Ryu flung himself backward, just as Sagat's foot slammed down into the ground where he had been mere instants before. The impact shattered the concrete, sending cracks spiderwebbing out in all directions.

Ryu staggered back, off-balanced by his desperate escape. Sagat watched, hawk-like, his every motion, wondering if the apparent weakness was a feint. The boy had never been this unsteady two years ago.

Regaining his footing, Ryu continued to back away until he was stopped by one of the deteriorating walls of the construction site. "Sagat, please..." he whispered, flattening himself out against it. "Don't do this..."

Sagat's reply was to lunge again. His leg lashed out three times with blinding speed, smashing to rubble the wall that Ryu had been leaning against. Once again the boy was able to evade each of the attacks, but by even less of a margin. Each of the kicks had come within inches of catching him.

At last managing to reach a safe distance, Ryu circled his assailant warily, trying his best to keep away. It was like watching a cornered animal. Sagat could read the emotions churning in the boy's eyes—could see his fear.

And yet... Sagat could not shake the feeling that there was something else growing in those eyes. Something deeper. Something darker. There was a sense about Ryu, something in his ki that was... different. Something he could not quite place.

"What's wrong with you?" the giant finally demanded. "You're not even trying to fight!" He punctuated his accusation with another attack, launching himself into the air with a vicious flying kick that would have torn Ryu's head from his shoulders had the boy been a split second slower. As it was, he managed to pull off a sideways roll in time, slipping under the kick and away from his attacker once more.

But Sagat was not done yet. Even as helanded from his jump, his eye was tracking the path of Ryu's roll. Even as the boy began to regain his footing, Sagat was ready.

_"Tiger!"_

Gathering his ki, Sagat hurled it from his fists in a massive blast of destructive energy. The Tiger Flame screamed toward its target with blinding speed. Ryu's eyes widened as he saw the deadly projectile bearing down on him. He knew that there was no time for him to get out of its path.

_"Hadoken!"_

At the last moment, Ryu threw his hands out in front of himself, using his own energy attack to counter that of his assailant. A dark red fireball shot from his palms, catching the Tiger Flame just before it hit him. The resulting detonation flung the young man through the air, and when at last he hit the concrete he rolled for several feet before coming to a rest, facedown.

The boy dragged himself back up to a kneeling position, enough that he could look down at his shaking hands—and see the traces of blood-colored energy that still crackled across them from his fireball. "No..." he whispered, clenching his fists to hide from his eyes the signs that were burned into his mind. "No, not again...!"

A shadow fell across him. Acting on pure reflex, Ryu flung himself sideways, causing Sagat's descending fist to demolish more concrete instead of his skull. But it was only a momentary escape. The Muay Thai master was on him again in the blink of an eye, pressing the attack with a barrage of strikes, not letting up for an instant.

Ryu backpedaled, dodging as best he could, but his opponent was too fast, too strong, too skilled. Soon, the boy saw a fist hurtling toward his face, one that he knew he could not avoid. There was only one way to stop it.

He blocked.

The two mens' arms collided with bone-jarring force, the shock travelling through Ryu's entire body. No sooner had he blocked that attack than he had to move to deflect another blow, and then another.

The pace of their battle increased every second, as Sagat unleashed a furious rain of kicks and punches on his adversary. Ryu's hands were blurring as he made his desperate defense, parrying technique after technique, all in the blink of an eye. Even so, the young man began to give ground, backing up step by step as his guard was battered by strike after strike.

But somehow, even as he backed away it seemed that his movements were made with ever-increasing intensity, ever-increasing ferocity. And with each punishing impact, the strange look that Sagat had noticed in the boy's eyes continued to grow.

Without warning, a howl of animal rage tore itself from Ryu's throat. Exploding forward with blinding speed, he drove his fist into the larger man's chest. The sheer force of the blow sent Sagat flying, before finally landing on his back and skidding across the pavement.

Even as he slid to a stop, a low rumble of satisfaction was building in Sagat's chest. "At last..." he said, as he began to right himself. Ryu's sudden shift from defense to offense had caught him off guard, but it was a welcome event. "You're fighting back. _Now_ we can..." But his voice trailed off as he caught sight of the boy.

Ryu was frozen in place, arm still extended from his punch. Now, however, it was trembling violently, as was his whole body. His eyes were clenched shut, and his features were contorted beyond recognition. Each breath he took was half-shudder, half-sob. Then, as Sagat watched, the young man sunk to his knees, burying his face in his shaking hands.

Slowly, Sagat finished pulling himself back to his feet, watching the boy carefully as he did so. After a few moments he walked over to where Ryu lay, towering over the crumpled form. "Get up," he said. "Let's finish this."

Ryu made no reply, save for clenching his hands into quivering fists. "Get up, boy!" Sagat said again, angrier now. "Get up and fight!" But again there was no answer, only a stillness in which Ryu's labored breathing was the only sound that could be heard.

Then, slowly, the giant's eye narrowed.

Without warning, Sagat's huge hand shot down, engulfing Ryu's head in a vise-like grip and lifting him roughly into the air. "Damn you!" he roared, his face contorted with hatred. "Damn you! Will you cheat me even of this?"

Ryu said nothing, only watched fearfully through the gaps between Sagat's fingers as the giant continued to rage. "Two years I waited for this moment. _Lived_ for this moment! And now even this you have taken from me. I wanted to face you in combat, to prove that I was your superior, even if only to myself. I was prepared for victory. I was even prepared for defeat. But this... _This!_"

Sagat hurled Ryu away, sending him flying backward through the air. The boy managed—barely—to land on his feet, his shoes skidding and sliding across the pavement as he fought to keep his balance. He looked up to see Sagat closing in on him again, slowly, determinedly.

"So this is all that remains..." the Muay Thai master ground out as he advanced. His fury had vanished, replaced instead with a grim disgust. "I should have known from the beginning. Of course a real victory was too much to ask. If you had been as you were then, this might have meant something. But as you are now..." Sagat's voice trailed off. "Now you have truly denied me everything. Everything—save for your death."

"Death...?" Ryu managed to say. "But... you said... Bison..."

Sagat snorted contemptuously. "I never intended to deliver you to that madman. That much, at least, I can give the world: whatever twisted plan he has, you will play no part in it. No, Ryu, you are mine alone to deal with. Mine alone to destroy."

At that last word, Ryu's trembling legs failed him, sending him to his knees once again. "Please..." he said again, barely audible this time. "Sagat... don't... do this..."

Sagat looked down at the boy. "I must," he said quietly. "It is all I have left." With those words, the giant raised his fist for a blow aimed at Ryu's unprotected neck.

The Muay Thai master could feel his every heartbeat hammering inside his chest. He had envisioned this moment a thousand times, imagined himself standing triumphant over the object of his hatred. But now that he was standing there, in the flesh, it all seemed suddenly and utterly inadequate. The all-consuming rage that he had expected to feel had abandoned him, leaving only gnawing unrest.

Fiercely, he tried to recover his sense of purpose. This was it, he kept telling himself. At long last, he had reached the end of his dark road. Now he was seconds away from his vengeance. Seconds away from release. This was the moment he longed for, the moment he wanted more than anything else.

Wasn't it?

As it had so many times before, doubt clutched again at Sagat's heart. This time, however, there was nothing whatsoever he could do to quell it. Every other time, he had held his course by clinging to the memories of his disgrace, the taunting crowds, his pupil Adon's disgust. Those were the images that had kept him going, given him the strength—and the murderous desire—to hunt his prey to the ends of the earth.

But now he could call none of those images to mind. As he looked down at the trembling figure before him, he found he could no longer see the demonic scapegoat that he had constructed two years ago to be the embodiment of his shame. He could see Ryu only as he was—a young man, curled up on the ground, whom he was about to kill.

A sickening emptiness swept through Sagat's body. His every instinct screamed at him to finish his foe, to end the tormented hunt once and for all. But boiling from the depths of his soul there was an opposition, one that tore at his conscience until it was an almost physical pain.

For endless second after endless second he remained there, fist held in position to strike, unable to move—until at last he could bear it no longer.

With a roar of rage, he swung his fist down with all his might, slamming it into the ground at his feet. The concrete shattered under the force of the blow, sending shards flying into the air. He raised his fist again, bringing it down on the same spot—and then again, and again, roaring all the while—until at last his anguish was finally spent.

For a long time they remained that way, both men kneeling, one with his arms wrapped around himself, the other with his fist resting on the powdered remains of the ground that he had been battering. The silence continued until finally a sound escaped Sagat's lips, a harsh, mocking sound that was barely recognizable as a laugh. "Tell me, boy," he asked. "Have you ever, in all your days, seen as great a fool as the one who stands before you now?"

Slowly, Ryu raised his head, looking up at the Muay Thai master. "Sagat...?" he asked, hesitantly, unbelievingly.

The giant returned Ryu's gaze, then glanced at the boy's dirty, tattered clothing, his haggard, tortured face. At length, he spoke. "What happened to us, Ryu?"

Ryu said nothing in reply, only looked down at his trembling hands, an expression of pain crossing his face. After a few moments, Sagat continued. "Two years ago... We faced each other with honor back then. We were _warriors_." The giant shook his head. "How did we end up like this?"

At last, Ryu spoke. "What... are you going to do?"

Sagat rose to his feet. "That isn't important right now. What matters is what you are going to do. Bison will stop at nothing to capture you, and Japan will quickly become too small a place to hide. I will do my best to frustrate his search, but you must leave—and quickly."

"But what about the police? Couldn't we go to them?"

The giant shook his head. "Worse than useless. Bison has men everywhere in their ranks; he would know instantly if you went to them. More importantly, they are utterly incapable of standing against his servants, much less he himself. No, your only hope is in flight. Do you have a passport?"

Ryu nodded. "It's hidden with some other things of mine, but I can get it." He paused for a moment, then spoke again. "What is this all about, Sagat? What does this man want with me?"

"I don't know." A frown creased Sagat's face. "The details of Bison's schemes are seldom known to anyone but himself. But whatever his designs on you are, I know he will stop at nothing to fulfill them. Already he has mobilized most of his resources in his attempt to hunt you down, and now that he's found you he's sent his best agents after you." Ryu's memory flashed back to the young women who had been chasing him, to the strange, warped aura that he had felt on them, and he shuddered.

"Now listen carefully," Sagat continued. "We have no time to waste. The Dolls are currently standing down, just as I ordered them to. If you leave this place in that direction"—here he pointed toward a route out of the construction site—"you should be able to avoid them. I will go back and tell my team that you escaped me, but I will do my best to put them on the wrong track in searching for you. Retrieve your passport, and take the first plane you can get out of Japan. Then, disappear—just like you did after the Street Fighter tournament."

Ryu spoke. "I... don't have the money for a plane ticket."

"Unfortunate." Sagat stroked his chin in thought. "But not insurmountable. The Shadowlaw safe house has a cash reserve; I may be able to appropriate some of it for our use. I will meet you tomorrow at seven in the morning, at an abandoned warehouse five blocks south of this place, with all the money you will need."

Slowly Ryu got to his feet, then looked up at the Muay Thai master. "Thank you..." he said. "For all of this. I can't—"

"Don't thank me," replied Sagat shortly. "I'm only ending something I never should have begun in the first place. Now go, before it's too late."

Ryu turned to leave, then looked back over his shoulder. "But what about you?" he asked. "What will you do, when Bison discovers what you've done?"

"Let me worry about that," was Sagat's level reply. "Just go."

For a moment the young man hesitated, as though he was going to say something more. But in the end simply nodded, and ran off in the direction Sagat had shown him.

Sagat watched him leave. As he did so, he noticed once again the strange, dark sensation that seemed to emanate from the boy. Although it seemed to have receded slightly it was still detectable, hanging just on the edge of perception.

And the more Sagat thought about it, the more familiar that sensation seemed. He had felt something like that before, he realized—not quite the same, but similar—on someone else, years ago. But the memory was elusive, and for the life of him he could not recall it to mind.

Eventually, he shrugged his shoulders. Ponderings like that could wait until a more appropriate time. Right now, he needed to think about the story he was going to tell his team. Turning, he began to walk in the opposite direction, toward their rendezvous point.

* * *

Thailand, March 13

The red-cloaked figure of Bison stood in the center of the Shadowlaw control center, his face a cold, expressionless mask. His gaze bored into the screen that stretched above him. On that screen were images, broadcast around the world, originating from the surveillance equipment that the Dolls had set up—without Sagat's knowledge—to monitor the duel between Ryu and the Muay Thai master. Those images were, even now, showing the young Japanese fighter running off, as Sagat stood and watched.

"So," Bison spat at last, his voice laden with contempt. "It seems I overestimated the strength of your hatred, worm. I should have known you would never truly be able to escape the shackles your pathetic code of honor."

With that, he turned to Killer Bee, who occupied her normal place off to the side of the chamber. "Quickly, put me in contact with Balrog," he ordered. "We must make a slight modification to the plan."


	9. Breaking Point

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Street Fighter in any way, shape or form. It and all associated characters, trademarks, etc. are owned by Capcom. I'm just telling some stories about them.

* * *

Chapter Nine: Breaking Point

Japan, March 14

Warm sunlight seeped between half-closed window blinds, illuminating the small hotel room where Chun-li lay sleeping. The gentle radiance was the only alarm clock that the young policewoman needed; soon she began to stir in her sleep, until finally her eyes blinked open.

Pulling back her covers, she drew herself into a sitting position. She could not recall what time she had fallen asleep, only that she had tossed and turned for quite a while before doing so. With the morning, however, the strange anxiety she had felt previous night had vanished, leaving her refreshed and invigorated.

With a small yawn she rolled out of the bed, landing lightly on her feet as she looked about her. Her room had a different feel than it had the previous night, stained gold as it now was by the rays of morning. The change was welcome. In the calm quiet, a half-forgotten childhood song sprang suddenly to her mind, and as she headed for the bathroom she began to idly hum the notes that she remembered.

One change of clothes later, she stood in the center of the room once again, this time dressed in her workout uniform, a loose-fitting, red and black set of clothes. There was not much open space for what she was about to do, but she had learned long ago to make the best of whatever she had.

She began with some simple warm-ups and stretches, gradually limbering herself up after the night's sleep. After that, she moved on into basic drills. Punches, kicks, blocks—slow at first, then with increasing speed. By the end, most humans would have been hard pressed to even see her movements, they were executed so quickly.

Then she progressed to more advanced techniques. The Hyakuretsu Kyaku. The Tenshokyaku. The Sen'en Shuu. The tight confines of the room made it impossible for her to practice them to their fullest extent, but she turned that into a challenge as well—a challenge of control, seeing just how far she could push herself without causing damage to her surroundings.

Her every motion was executed with poised, elegant grace, her lithe form blurring as she fought off scores of imaginary attackers. Every block, every counter, every dodge was made with a seemingly effortless precision. Each move flowed seamlessly into the next, all combining into an intricate, lethal dance.

Eventually, her workout completed, she found a seat on the floor. Of all her morning routine this was unquestionably the part she treasured the most, the part she saved for last. Quieting her breathing, she closed her eyes and relaxed.

She could feel her heart beating in her chest, a steady thumping rhythm, still accelerated from her workout. She waited as it calmed itself. Then she began to calm her mind, erasing from it all the pressures and fears and anxieties that it struggled under, until at last she found her center. Her place of peace.

It was then that the phone rang.

With a pained sigh, Chun-li opened one eye, hoping against hope that she was imagining the jangling, discordant noise. She was not. The phone on the desk was indeed demanding her attention—loudly and repeatedly.

Biting back a few choice words, she rose to her feet and reached across to lift the handset from its cradle. "This is Chun-li," she said. "What is it?"

"Good morning, Chun-li," It was Inspector Takahashi's voice on the other end. "I'm sorry to call you this early, but some... very interesting information has come up, and I thought you and your colleague might like to come take a look at it for yourselves."

"Of course," Chun-li replied. "I'll let Rose know; she's staying in the room next to mine. We'll be there shortly."

"Good, good," came Takahashi's response. "I'll call up a taxi for you; it should be there in about fifteen minutes." Then he hung up.

* * *

After relaying Inspector Takahashi's message to Rose, Chun-li took a quick shower and slipped into a set of clothes more appropriate for the Interpol office. The purple-haired woman was waiting for her when she emerged from her room, and the two of them made their way down to ground level, just as the promised taxi arrived at the hotel door.

Within a half-hour of the phone call, Chun-li, Rose, and the Inspector were all seated around a small table, looking at the small television resting atop it. Chun-li was holding a small ceramic cup filled to the brim with coffee, provided by a thoughtful aide. Rose had declined.

Takahashi was the first one to speak. "Last night, the silent alarm of a small shop on the outer edges of town was tripped, and some of our men went to investigate, as per standard procedure. When they got there, they found that both the front _and_ the back doors of the place had been broken down. And as if that wasn't strange enough, for all that effort, nothing seemed to have been taken from the shop itself."

Chun-li frowned, but said nothing, only taking a sip of her coffee. Rose raised an eyebrow. "Unusual."

"Indeed," Takahashi said. "The recording made by the store's security cameras, however, shed a bit of light on the matter. When I saw the footage... well, I'll just let you two look for yourselves."

The Inspector reached over to turn on the television set, and then pressed a button on the attached VCR. The screen showed static for a few moments, then resolved into a grainy, black and white view of a store's interior.

For a few moments, everything was still. Then without warning, the front door exploded inward and a young man ran through it, crossing the camera's field of vision in less than a second. Then, before Chun-li even had time to fully process what she had seen, three more figures darted across view in hot pursuit of the first. One, a muscular man wearing boxing gloves; the other two, slender young girls.

The policewoman felt a cold, hard knot settle in the pit of her stomach. "Balrog..." she said at last. "And two of the Dolls. Shadowlaw's already here."

Rose nodded, her face dark. "Apparently, loosing the tape did not slow our enemies down nearly so much as we'd hoped."

"Apparently," echoed Chun-li. Then she reached out and pressed the rewind button on the VCR. "But... who's this first man, the one they're chasing? Do either of you recognize him?"

Rose watched as the sequence played again, then once it was done shook her head. "I've never seen him before."

"We've come up dry too," added Inspector Takahashi. "We ran his picture through the Interpol database, but didn't find any leads as to who he might be. The way he's dressed might suggest that he's homeless—heaven knows this city has more than its share of such people."

Chun-li pressed the rewind button once again, but this time as the young man dashed across the screen she paused the playback, catching him in mid-stride. She looked intently at the fuzzy, low-quality image, trying to discern something—anything—that might help unravel this puzzle. She could tell that the man's hair was darkish and his clothes seemed to be very shabby, but beyond that not much could else.

Rose's voice interrupted her thoughts. "Well, whoever this poor man was, he was obviously tied somehow to Bison's plan. Perhaps he knew information that Bison wanted, maybe even about the dark power itself."

"Our men are combing the city as we speak," Inspector Takahashi offered hopefully. "If he did manage to escape, we stand a good chance of finding him."

Rose sighed. "He was being chased by two Dolls, Inspector. I fully expect that he is at this moment either in Bison's custody, or dead."

The Inspector raised his eyebrows. "Those two girls? They're really that dangerous?"

"Those two girls are the end result of a seven billion dollar super-soldier program," Chun-li told him. "Any one of them is the equal of a small army. Their strength, their speed, their reaction time... it's all orders of magnitude above the norm. Against two of them, an untrained human wouldn't last a second."

"And that's not even the worst of it," added Rose grimly. "Knowing how high these stakes are, I very much doubt that these are the only two Dolls that have been dispatched. We can only assume that Bison has brought all twelve of them to Japan."

Takahashi's jaw dropped slightly, his expression fast becoming one of worry. "If that's true... How do we fight a force like that?" he asked.

"A very good question..." replied Rose. "Tell me, Chun-li. If it became necessary, how many of them do you think you could account for?"

"Hard to say," was the policewoman's answer. "I've only faced them a few times, but from what I've seen of them... if it came to an all-out battle... I might be able to win against two of them at the same time. No more than that."

"Mmm, I see..." Rose nodded. "For my part, I doubt I could handle more than five of them at once. I'm afraid that we may be outnumbered quite decisively."

* * *

Ryu stumbled his way through the narrow alley, trying his best to stay out of sight. Sweat was beading around his brow, and the near-constant twitching of his fingers had intensified. His breath was coming in gasps, impossible for him to control. _So many people..._ he thought, as his eyes darted to and fro feverishly. _Policemen, everywhere! Why? Searching the city, looking for something... Looking for... me?_

_No!_ The young man shook his head violently. _No, it isn't possible. Can't be possible! But what if it is? What if they... what if they know? What if they know what I did?_

The thought filled him with a horrible mixture of shame and fear, and his already reckless pace increased. _I just have to get to the warehouse,_ he told himself. _Sagat will be there. He'll have the money. He'll help me get away. I just have to get to the warehouse, and everything will be all right..._

The words ran through his head like a mantra, over and over again, as he clung to the thread of hope they offered. He pushed onward, pushing all other thoughts out of his mind, save for the one: _I just have to get to the warehouse._

All around him, he could sense the faint ki auras of the inhabitants of the city, as they went about their daily business. But intermingled with them, like candles set against a backdrop of distant stars, were the sharper, more alert presences of the policemen that had been sweeping the city since that morning. Watching. Hunting.

He felt one such presence up ahead make a sudden turn in its route. Ryu skidded to a stop. The officer was now walking down the street in front of him, drawing closer with each step to the mouth of the alley. The young man looked around wildly, knowing he had only seconds to get out of sight, but there was no cover to be seen.

At the last moment, he spotted an old, rusted doorway set in the alley wall just behind him. He flung himself toward the shallow alcove, pressing himself into it as tightly as he could manage. Even as he did so, he felt the policeman clear the corner of the alley. Ryu sucked in his breath, willing himself to be small, to be unnoticed.

The officer paused in his patrol. Ryu clenched his eyes shut, his every muscle tight, his every thought a prayer that the man had not seen him.

After an endless, agonizing half-second, the policeman continued on his way. As soon as he was gone Ryu sagged against the door, his pent-up breath coming in relieved shudders. But there was no time to relax. Already he could feel the two policemen he had avoided a few minutes before, still making their way through the alleys, drawing near him from behind.

Pushing himself off of the doorway, he resumed his stumbling, desperate flight. _I just... have to get to the warehouse_, he told himself, as he doggedly put one foot down in front of the other. _I just have to get to the warehouse, and everything will be all right..._

* * *

Almost half an hour later, Ryu stood across the street from his destination.

Relief like he had never known flooded him at the sight of the weathered, run-down old building. He had made it. Against all odds, he had dodged the police and hid from the searching eyes of Shadowlaw. And now he was almost safe. Sagat would help him escape the country, and he could hide someplace else, someplace far away from all this insanity.

Cautiously, he reached out with his mind, feeling the ki flow from the warehouse. He immediately detected Sagat's distinctive presence inside. _He's here early,_ Ryu realized. _I wonder why?_

Sensing no one else in the vicinity, the young man ran for the nearest door to the large building, and tried the knob with trembling hands. It was unlocked. He ducked inside, shutting the door quickly behind him.

The interior of the warehouse was almost pitch-black, with next to no light coming in from the outside. In the darkness, Ryu could make out the looming outlines of huge stacks of crates, piled one on top of another, sometimes until they almost reached the ceiling of that huge, cavernous room.

Slowly the young man passed between the towers and walls of discarded packing, heading toward the center of the room, where he felt the Muay Thai master's presence. The utter silence of the place was oppressive, hanging in the stale, musty air like a weight. In that silence, every sound that Ryu made—from the slightest footfall to the faintest breath—seemed to him loud enough to wake the dead.

When he could bear the quiet no longer, he spoke. "Sagat?" he called out, his voice an uncertain combination of shout and whisper. There was no reply. Uneasiness clutched at Ryu's chest, but he pushed it aside as he continued to make his way toward his one last hope.

As he drew nearer, he began to notice a faint light coming from where Sagat was. Increasing his pace, he ran toward it, threading his way through the maze of wooden boxes. "Sagat!" he called again. "Sagat, I'm here!"

Again, no reply. He was very close now; he guessed that there was only one wall of crates separating him and the source of the light. Picking up speed, he rounded the last corner and saw what awaited him.

Sagat was there. Unconscious. The Muay Thai master was bound with thick steel chains to one of the building's central support beams, his giant frame covered with blood and bruises. His face was almost unrecognizable, so badly had it been beaten, and at least one of his legs appeared broken.

With a cry of desperation, Ryu turned to flee. But even as he whirled around, he saw that he was too late. Three girls, all clad in identical uniforms, were standing there, blocking the way back.

Whirling again, he tried to dash off in another direction, only to see a pair of girls standing there as well. And still more were emerging from the shadows in every direction. Some were perched on top of the crates, some were standing on the ground. Some were wielding weapons, some were unarmed. But all were focused with deadly intensity on the young man who they now surrounded.

Ryu backed his way into the center of the room, slowly making a full circle as he looked for some means—any means—of flight. He could find no holes in their net. There was no gauntlet this time. They had him exactly where they wanted him.

Out of the corner of his eye, Ryu saw Sagat begin to stir. Slowly, painfully, the giant managed to raise his head. His one good eye was swollen so badly that Ryu doubted he could see anything out of it, but he recognized the boy nonetheless.

"...sorry..." The word was a mangled whisper, barely loud enough for Ryu to hear. "...knew... somehow... were waiting for me..."

"Don't look so tough now, does he?" came a voice from behind them. Ryu turned to face the speaker, already knowing who to expect.

The boxer from the previous night was swaggering up, a sadistic grin on his face. "But then again," he continued. "Ain't nobody looks too tough after going up against all twelve o' these pretty ladies at once." He made a sweeping motion with his boxing gloves, indicating all the Dolls standing around them. "That's something you gonna learn firsthand, punk. You ain't gonna run away from this one."

Ryu licked his lips, his gaze moving from enemy to enemy, as his hands clenched and unclenched, over and over again. He said nothing.

Annoyed, Balrog continued to advance on him. "What's the matter?" he asked. "Ain'tcha got anything to say 'fore we beat you into a bloody pulp? Huh?"

Ryu's attention focused in on the boxer, as the larger man closed to just outside arm's reach of him. He met his foe's gaze, his bloodshot eyes boring into Balrog's. His chest rose and fell, as his breath rasped in and out. When at last he did speak, it was only two, simple quiet words.

"No escape."

Balrog barked out a laugh. "Couldn't'a put it better myself..." he said. "Get him, girls."

The instant the command left Balrog's lips, all twelve Dolls surged toward Ryu.

* * *

Chun-li looked intently at the city map that the Inspector had spread out on the conference room table, taking special note of the area surrounding the store where the chase had been recorded. "And you haven't found any witnesses who saw any kind of chase going on last night?" she asked.

"None whatsoever," was Takahashi's reply. "My men have been blanketing that area, but no one they've talked to admits to seeing anything."

"Not surprising," put in Rose. "It's doubtful that our Mr. X made it very far beyond the exit to that store before they caught up with him. The question is where they have him now."

"I don't know..." Chun-li mused, sitting back in her chair, staring off at nothing in particular. "There's still something about all this that just seems out of place to me... Some piece of the puzzle we don't quite have right..."

Rose raised an eyebrow, quizzically. "Such as?"

"No idea." Chun-li turned to reach for her coffee, which she had put off to the side of the table to make room for the map. "Whatever it is, though, I have a feeling that it's going to be—" Suddenly she broke off, her hand freezing in place mere inches from grasping the handle of the small ceramic cup.

It was shaking.

The vibration was tiny but unmistakable, rippling the surface of the liquid it contained. And it was increasing by the second. As the three of them watched, transfixed, the cup began to rattle, drifting slowly across the table.

By then the tremors could be felt everywhere, a deep rumbling that seemed to be shaking the very foundations of the earth. Chun-li stood, fighting for her balance, and looked at Takahasi. "Earthquake?" she asked urgently, already knowing that it was not.

Whatever the inspector might have said was interrupted by a loud crash, as the ever-growing vibrations toppled a nearby bookshelf. The lights in the ceiling above them began to flicker wildly. Suddenly Chun-li heard a man's voice, shouting from outside their room. "Look!" he yelled. "Look at the sky!"

Whirling, Chun-li dashed out into the corridor, with Rose and Takahasi barely a step behind. Once outside, the three of them ran toward the nearest window. Takahasi gasped at what he saw there. Even Chun-li and Rose, who were better prepared for the sight, were taken aback at the sheer scale of it.

Over the entire city, as far as the eye could see, a shroud of darkness had blotted out the sun. Everything was enfolded in the unnatural shadow, a shadow that was emanating out from the east of the city.

And the violent upheaval was still increasing. Takahasi was thrown to the ground, and even Chun-li was forced to use a nearby wall for balance to keep from stumbling. Outside, the wind howled around the police station, continuing to build until it tore through the streets with gale force.

Then the presence itself manifested.

A cry of mingled pain and horror wrenched itself from Chun-li's throat. She crumpled to her knees, clutching at her head, her finely tuned senses overloaded by the magnitude of what was assaulting them. It was a presence, but a presence of an entirely different order from anything she had ever known.

It was _power_. Raw, destructive power, so intense that for a moment her mind felt like a twig in the path of a locomotive, bowled over and crushed by the sheer thundering weight of it.

However, as the initial shock wore off, a resistance to the dark presence began to form inside of her. _Get up!_ she shouted at herself, angrily. _Get up! You can't let this thing beat you! There's too much at stake! If you don't want to lose the best chance you ever had at bringing Father's murderer to justice, then get up NOW!_

With an effort of the will she managed to climb back to her feet, looking around her. Rose was leaning heavily against the wall opposite from her, all the color drained from her face. "Rose!" Chun-li called out.

The purple haired woman looked up, her eyes meeting Chun-li's. "Just like on the island..." she said, her face pale. "It's happening again..."

* * *

Thailand, March 14

The Killer Bee looked steadily down at the console in front of her, green light from its readouts playing across her face as she monitored them. Numbers, figures, graphs, all flew across the many different screens, transmitted from Japan by Bison's surveillance devices.

She watched it all, her fingers dancing across the controls as she switched from status screen to status screen, alert for any sign of malfunction or error in the data feed. There was no room for mistakes in this operation. There would be no second chances. With Sagat's betrayal, the Dolls were the only agents left who were strong enough to bring this target to bay, the only ones who could force him to unleash his full power in killing them.

_Killing them..._ Slightly—ever so slightly—her hands faltered in mid-motion.

It was hardly noticeable, but nonetheless entirely without precedent. Worse, she could not identify any kind of cause for the momentary lapse. There were no risk factors that she could detect, no signs of anything that might impede her service to her master. She could sense no injuries, no weaknesses, no imbalances. Nothing.

And yet there _was_ something. She couldn't even begin to understand it, but she knew it was there. Small, faint, yet at the same time utterly impossible to ignore.

The Dolls were going to die. Somehow, that knowledge was affecting her in a way that was entirely outside the parameters that Bison had burned into her brain. Disoriented, she tried to remind herself of how necessary this sacrifice was to her master's plan, how it _had_ to happen before he could secure the power that he sought.

But that was not the information that came to mind. Instead, her thoughts remained fixated on the Dolls. She remembered all the times that she had led them into battle, all the times they had drilled together in training. She had been their leader. They had been her team. She had been responsible for them. They were about to die.

The scientists who had designed the brainwashing process used on the Dolls had been confident when they presented their results to Bison. They had been confident it was the perfect method for creating soulless killing machines. They had been confident that they had anticipated every last thing the human soul could do in resistance. They had been confident that they had left no chance for any mind, once enslaved, to feel anything anymore.

They were fools.

_I... don't..._ The thoughts—_her_ thoughts—tore free of Bison's conditioning. It was agonizing; each free word felt like a flaming brand skewering her through the skull. But she kept on going. _I... don't... want... them... to... die!_

By the time she finished the thought the pain had risen to unbelievable heights. But she did not stop—not until she had finished her simple epitaph for them.

Then once again her soul fell silent, spent beyond all endurance. Her fingers, which had been paralyzed through the ordeal, began once again to move across the controls, checking the instrumentation for errors. In all, it had taken less than a second. A casual observer might have missed it entirely.

But there was one fragile piece of evidence, bearing witness to what had taken place. The tiniest glint of light, reflecting off something in the corner of her left eye, almost invisible in the darkness.


	10. Unleashed

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Street Fighter in any way, shape or form. It and all associated characters, trademarks, etc. are owned by Capcom. I'm just telling some stories about them.

* * *

Chapter Ten: Unleashed

Japan, March 14

Chun-li clenched her teeth, gripping at the nearby wall to try and steady herself in the midst of the violent tremors. The lights in the police station were flickering off and on, and most of the officers had been thrown to the ground by the seismic upheval. She and Rose were among the few still standing.

But even that was a near thing. The quaking ground alone was bad enough, but far worse was the unceasing pressure of the consuming, hate-filled presence on her mind. She clutched one hand to the side of her head in an instinctive yet futile attempt to block it out.

But even as the pain assaulted her in wave after wave, her mind was working through the implications of what was going on. She looked over to the other woman, urgency filling her voice as she spoke. "Rose! We have to do something! If this thing does what it did to that island in the middle of a populated city..." She did not finish the thought; she could see that Rose understood the terrible consequences as well as she did.

"Agreed." Rose pushed off from the wall she had been leaning against, standing erect. "It must be defeated, and quickly, before it reaches its full power."

Inspector Takahashi managed to clamber back to his feet. "I'll have a car—"

Rose shook her head. "No time! The only chance is for me to confront it now, on the psychic plane—mind against mind."

Even as the older woman spoke, Chun-li felt something like an icy shiver course through the entire room. Not only did it shake her to her core, it also seemed to have a countering influence on the dark power being unleashed outside. The pressure on her mind abated noticeably, and even the earth's shaking seemed to diminish.

_She's powering up to try and match it,_ Chun-li realized, and her mind abruptly recalled their first meeting, back in the fog-shrouded back roads of London. She had caught a glimpse of the other woman's astonishing power back then. Now, it seemed, she would get to see its full extent.

And more importantly, she would see how it compared to the monstrous force outside.

The fortune-teller closed her eyes, all her concentration on the task before her. Soon, it was Rose's presence that filled Chun-li's consciousness, pushing back the other. It was not crushing or chaotic like the power that still raged outside the police station, but cold. Calm. Ordered. There was an almost harmonic quality to it, like a distant note being played, just outside of hearing.

When Rose spoke, it was in an echoing, majestic voice that bore only the slightest resemblance to her normal tone. _"Stay back."_

Chun-li moved away to what she felt was a safe distance. Then she turned to Takahashi. "All right, so she'll be staying here. Now where can I find the car you were talking about?"

Takahashi's eyes widened. "You're going out there alone?"

"At this point it's all I can do," the policewoman replied grimly. "I don't know how Rose is planning to fight whatever this is, but I can't do anything to help her from here." She glanced over to where the other woman was standing. "Any objections?"

_"None,"_ came Rose's reply. _"Only hurry. Time is precious, and I fear our chances are already far too slim."_

* * *

Even as her power waxed full, Rose was furiously planning out her attack. She had little time; she knew that her best chance for victory lay in the element of surprise, the hope that she could strike hard enough to cripple whatever this was before it had a chance to react to her.

Accordingly, she threw caution to the winds. The instant Rose reached her full strength she reached out with her mind, casting her consciousness toward the center of the dark chaos in an all-or-nothing attempt to force entry into its consciousness. She clenched her teeth, braced herself. A flash of light exploded across her field of vision...

...and with that, she found herself in the mindscape of her foe.

As her astral form burst into existence in that plane, Rose stumbled, off-balanced by the lack of resistance she had encountered. _That was... too easy._ she thought, looking slowly around her. _Far too easy._

She had manifested into the most barren mindscape she had ever seen. She could not see much—it was night in there, and a mass of dark clouds choked the sky from horizon to horizon, allowing only the faintest hints of moonlight to peek through. All she could make out was a sea of grass, a giant field that stretched out, unbroken, until it faded into the darkness.

Picking a direction at random, she began to walk. _Still no sign of the entity itself..._ she mused. _Very strange... The entrance of my astral form into its mindscape should have drawn its own in as well. But where is it?_

She took several more steps before realizing, with a sickening jolt, that it was standing directly in her path.

It was almost impossible to see, an even darker shadow set against the darkness of the sky. But this shadow was something unnatural, a man-shaped emptiness that even the faint moonlight could not touch.

Rose took a quick step back. The thing made no move, but as she watched, two glowing points of dark red light appeared on its face. They were its eyes, she knew, opening to take a look at the intruder who had come uninvited into its mind.

So this was it. "Who are you?" Rose demanded. As she spoke, a bright purple light began to coalesce in her palm, growing by the second as she prepared to do battle.

The dark entity made no reply. After a few moments, she tried again. "Your activity in this city is not tolerable. You will cease it immediately, or face the consequences."

Rose met the gaze of the glowing eyes without flinching. They remained in that frozen state, until at last the ki projectile in Rose's hand had reached its full strength. "Last chance, abomination," she warned, holding the blazing energy aloft. "If you do not stand down, I will count you an enemy." Still there was no answer.

"Then so be it." With that, the fortune-teller hurled the energy blast at the shadow.

The attack left her hand as a huge stream of ki, the wake of its passing carving a furrow into the earth as it thundered toward its target. It covered the distance between them in an eyeblink, but passed right through the spot where her foe had been without effect. The shadow was already gone.

_Above!_ Rose twisted her head upward in time to see the shadow plummeting down from the sky, its fist aimed in a strike at her face. Raising her hand toward the attack, palm outward, she narrowed her eyes in concentration.

The dark entity's punch stopped an inch in front of her hand, smashing into the invisible barrier that Rose had willed into existence. The impact caused the shield to waver, sending off flashes of energy as the fortune-teller struggled to keep it from failing. Then, clenching her teeth, she pulsed the shield outward, flinging the shadow back through the air.

The shadow hit the ground in a roll that ended in a crouch, then immediately pushed off from it to charge toward her. It leapt panther-like into the air as it approached, launching an aerial kick that scythed toward the side of her head. Rose threw up another barrier, stopping the kick with another blinding flash—only to see the shadow twist impossibly in midair, pushing off its first kick to swing its other leg around in a kick from the other side.

With no time to erect a second shield, she ducked, just barely making it in time. As the kick passed over her Rose sprang to the other side, and in one, sinuous motion, unwound the yellow shawl from around her neck.

Then she spun, whipping the long piece of cloth toward the still-airborne shadow. Even as it cut through the air it began to glow, streaking toward its target as though with a life of its own. The shadow lifted its arms in a mid-air block, and there was a huge crack of energy as Rose's weapon struck her enemy's defense.

The hit did not faze the shadow, which landed on its feet with a soft thud. But Rose was far from finished. Even as the dark entity's feet touched the ground her shawl lashed out with another strike, followed by another, and then another. Its glowing form twisted and writhed through the air, attacking from every conceivable angle, trying to get around her enemy's guard.

The shadow gave ground under the assault, staggering back a little bit as it was battered by strike after strike. Rose chased after it, putting more and more ki power into each successive blow. The barrage continued unabated—until, without warning, the shadow's hand shot out, grabbing the cloth in midair.

Before Rose could react, the shadow was back on the offensive. It first twisted away, jerking the shawl with a force that pulled Rose off balance, stumbling toward it. Then it immediately twisted back, driving the same fist it had pulled her with into her stomach.

With a gasp of pain, Rose doubled over—then was smashed back upright as the shadow continued its momentum, spinning to bring its other arm around in an elbow that struck just below the throat. She staggered backward, leaving herself wide open for the uppercut that caught her just under the chin, snapping her head back.

Her vision exploded in a flash of white, blinding her for several seconds as she desperately tried to retreat. By sheer willpower she managed to remain on her feet, but beyond that she was so disoriented she could hardly think straight. It was several seconds before her head began to clear, and she was able to take stock of her situation.

The shadow had not moved. It stood in the same spot where she had last seen it, its glowing eyes focused on her with their unblinking gaze. Her shawl was still gripped in its hand; Rose realized in dismay that she had lost her hold on it with the last blow she had taken.

Seeing her gaze fasten on her lost weapon, the dark entity glanced down at it as well. Raising its hand, it examined the cloth for a long moment, running its dark fingers up and down the length of it. Then, rolling it up into a ball, the shadow tossed it back to Rose.

A knot of cold fear began to settle in Rose's stomach as she caught it.

* * *

The police car shot along the city streets, its siren shrieking as it sped around corners and through intersections. Chun-li's hand was locked in a deathgrip on the wheel, trying to keep the vehicle on the road as it raced toward the heart of the hate-filled maelstrom.

_I don't know what Rose thinks she's doing, but it doesn't seem to be helping very much..._ she thought. It was obvious that they were running out of time. With every second that passed the situation worsened. The earthquake grew more powerful. The howling wind increased in force. And the pressure on her mind became more and more unbearable.

The young woman gritted her teeth, her foot clamping down on the accelerator as hard as she dared in these conditions. It was like trying to steer a leaf in a storm, but by a combination of skill and raw luck she had managed to make it this far.

Unfortunately, it didn't last. Coming up on a curve in the road, Chun-li cranked the wheel left to follow it. At first the car responded, veering in a leftward direction—only to be suddenly hit by a strong gust of wind at just the wrong time, at just the wrong angle.

In an instant she had lost all control over her vehicle, as it flipped over sideways with a sickening lurch. Earth and sky transposed themselves in front of her, and all Chun-li could do was force herself to go limp, and pray that the police force here had invested well in their squad cars.

The car hit with a loud crash, rolling over three times before slamming into the side of a nearby building, upside down. The impact threw Chun-li violently around in her seat, her safety belt digging deep into her skin. For a moment she simply hung there, as the world spun crazily about her.

But only for a moment. Even before the disorientation had fully worn off, her grim resolve had hardened to the point that her hands were reaching of their own accord for her belt buckle, undoing it. _You don't have time for this,_ she told herself. _There's too much to be done. Lock the fear away. Lock the pain away. Lock the weakness away. Get up and move!_

As the belt buckle came loose, she dropped into a crouch on the ceiling of the upturned vehicle. She tried to open the driver side door, only to find that it had been damaged in the crash. With a hiss of anger, she turned and gave the door a vicious kick, one that tore it off its metal hinges, sending it flying several yards. With that she climbed out of the wreckage.

She took a brief glance around her as she finish pulling herself together. The car was obviously a loss, but she could feel that it had gotten her close to her target. Now the rest was up to her.

Turning to face the direction of the dark presence, she broke into a sprint, running toward it as fast as she could.

* * *

Rose staggered backward, a trickle of blood running down from the corner of her mouth. She wiped at it with the back of her hand, all the while keeping her eyes on the monstrosity that she was fighting.

_This thing is invincible._ The thought passed, unbidden, through her mind. She resisted it, determined to find some way to achieve victory, but with each time that they clashed that hope became harder and harder to hold on to. They had exchanged blows again and again, until Rose had all but lost count, and yet she was the only one who appeared to be feeling the effects. _It's... too fast, too strong..._ whispered the gnawing voice of despair. _I can't hurt it—I can barely even touch it!_

The shadow stood, unmoving, watching her as she caught her breath. _Toying with me..._ she thought darkly. _Playing with its prey—until it gets bored. Such arrogance..._

_But perhaps... Perhaps I can use that to my advantage..._

Taking a step back, she held her palms down at her sides, calling on every last reserve of her power. A glowing purple aura burst into existence around her, building higher and higher with each passing second until her form was engulfed in a raging inferno of ki. _I will have only one chance at this._ she told herself. _For everyone's sake, I must make this count._

The shadow continued to watch the display as Rose readied her attack, crossing its arms as it waited. _It makes no move to interrupt me as I prepare, giving me all the time I need..._ she thought. _Just as I hoped it would. Now, I only pray that its arrogance does not prove warranted..._

Gritting her teeth, Rose continued to charge her attack until it felt as though she would be torn to shreds by the accumulated power. Her body was almost invisible now, lost in the blaze of energy that surrounded her. _This is it..._ she thought. _See if you can dodge this one, abomination._

With that, she threw her arms out to her sides, palms outward. Her accumulated power exploded outward in _all_ directions, an expanding sphere of destructive force. The attack scoured the earth as it went, tearing up grass and ground in its path. The shadow was lost to view behind the massive blast, and when at last the attack finally dissipated, there was no sign of it.

Exhausted, Rose collapsed to one knee, spent by the exertion of launching such a powerful attack. Only one thought ran through her mind, over and over again, as she gasped for breath. _Please, let that have done it. Let that have done it. Let that have done it._

Shakily, she raised her head. There was no sign of the shadow. She knew it was still alive, though—otherwise, its entire mindscape would have dissipated. _It must have been thrown backward, into the darkness beyond my sight. But how badly was it damaged? If even that did not cripple it, then all is lost._

Her eyes scoured the darkness, looking for any sign of her foe, hoping desperately not to see those glowing eyes coming toward her. Second after endless second passed, with no sign of the dark entity. _Please, let that have done it._

Soon, she had recovered enough to reach out, trying to sense where her foe was. _I must find it and put an end to it for good._ she told herself, as she quieted her mind to listen the shadow's presence. _I only hope that I can regain enough strength to do so before it—_

It was then that she sensed the shadow's location.

With a cry of horror she tried to leap to her feet and spin around. Too late. Almost before she had begun to move, a hand clamped around her throat from behind her with an iron grip, lifting her into the air. She struggled to draw in a breath, but found she could not. Soon, black spots began to dace in front of her vision. _Im... impossible..._ she managed to think. _H... how...?_

The grip around her throat only seemed to grow tighter in reply. Rose struggled vainly, trying to break free, but was already far too weakened to have any hope of success. She knew she was about to lose consciousness, and after that, doubtless her life.

Then, desperate, and with nothing left to lose, Rose attempted one final gambit. Abandoning all hopes of winning this battle between their psychic avatars, she reached out with the innermost part of her consciousness, trying to tap into the dark entity's thoughts directly. Trying to find something—anything—that she could use against it.

It was a trick that by all rights shouldn't have worked. She was fully expecting the attempt to shatter her mind on the mental shields she had thought for certain would be in place. But, astonishingly, it did not. She met no resistance, and in an instant her mind had penetrated to the very core of the dark entity's being.

With only seconds remaining, she had no time to be selective about her method of attack. She could sense the shadow's thoughts, feelings, memories all swarming about her in a chaotic mess, and she grabbed at one that seemed important. Then, as the last vestiges of her strength faded, she wove it into a simple illusion and willed it into existence.

The next thing she knew, air had flooded back into her lungs. She gasped, her body falling to the ground as the shadow abruptly dropped her. Her shoulders were shaking as she sucked breath after breath, and her head was spinning. Still, as soon as she was able she looked up to see the effect of her ploy.

Standing in front of her was the illusion that she had thrown together using what she had scrounged from the shadow's memories. It was that of an old Japanese man, bearded and grey-haired. Despite his age he was very well-muscled, and he was clad in a white _gi_, complete with a faded, black-colored belt. He had a face that seemed to suggest both gentleness and power, with just the slightest touch of wry humor hiding there as well.

At the moment, however, he wore a heavy expression—one of mingled sorrow and disappointment. Rose did not recognize him, but evidently he had some significance to the shadow. Certainly enough that merely seeing that image had distracted it enough to release her.

It was not until she turned to look at the shadow itself that she realized it had done far, far more than that.

Slowly, step by step, the shadow was backing away. Astonished, Rose nevertheless had the presence of mind to have the phantom figure walk closer to the shadow, while at the same time sustaining it with her power to ensure that it would not fade away. But even as she did so, her mind was racing. _What on earth is going on here? Doesn't it realize this is just an image? How can anything develop the hideous kind of power this thing has, and yet be ignorant of basic defenses like mental barriers or how to discern illusions?_

Even as she wrestled with these questions, the shadow continued to back away, faster now, its desperation growing. Then she heard it speak, a harsh whisper that was the first sound she had heard it make. "No... No! Go away!"

Stumbling, the shadow went down to its knees, raising its arms as though that would somehow ward off the oncoming figure. "Go away, please!" it begged. "Don't... don't look at me, master! I'm not..." its voice broke. "I didn't mean to... I wasn't... I..." It clutched at its head, as though in pain, then looked down at his hands. "No... No! What... what have I done? What am I doing? _What am I doing?_"

A howl broke loose from the dark entity, as it crumpled to the ground, face first. Around it, its mindscape began to fracture, the earth trembling as giant fissures opened in the ground and lightning split the sky overhead. Rose's eyes went wide with shock.

Then, with one final scream from the shadow, the entire mindscape shattered into a blast of chaos.


	11. Temptation

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Street Fighter in any way, shape or form. It and all associated characters, trademarks, etc. are owned by Capcom. I'm just telling some stories about them.

* * *

Chapter Eleven: Temptation

Japan, March 14

The sudden destruction of the mindscape created a massive psychic backlash for its inhabitants, but Rose was not caught unprepared. Even as the mindscape was disintegrating, she was preparing a countermeasure to protect herself.

Then the blast hit. Her consciousness was thrown back into the physical world, her connection to the dark entity's mind abruptly severed. She stumbled, mostly due to exhaustion from her long battle, but thanks to her precautions she was otherwise undamaged.

Inspector Takahashi hurried up to her, concern on his face. "Are you all right?" he asked. "What happened to the—?"

He broke off in mid-sentence. Around him, the trembling of the earth had abruptly ceased. He turned to look out the window, only to find the unnatural dark fading away, allowing the light of day to once again stream to earth unhindered. The once-raging wind had died back down to a gentle breeze.

He turned back to Rose, awe in his voice. "You did it!"

But Rose's face was bent into a thoughtful frown. "I have done... something. But I am not entirely sure what. The only thing I am certain of is that we are not out of danger yet. I must contact Chun-li immediately."

Although obviously confused by what was going on, Takahashi nevertheless nodded. "Her cell phone, then. Follow me; we can call her from this office right here."

* * *

In the physical world, Ryu staggered, as though struck—which was not far from the truth. He had taken the full force of the psychic backlash. Then, in the next instant, the sights, sounds and smells of the mental plane had been torn away, replaced by his current surroundings. It was too much; for a moment, he simply reeled drunkenly, blind to everything around him. Eventually his hands found what felt like a wall, and he slumped headlong against it.

After several seconds he began to recover. Raising his head shakily, he discovered he was in fact leaning against a large pile of crates. The sight began stir something in his memory. _Crates..._ he thought, trying to make sense out of the conflicting thoughts pounding in his skull. _That's right... I remember... something about a warehouse..._ Tiredly, he pushed himself upright and turned to survey his surroundings.

His heart nearly stopped at what he saw.

It was a scene out of a nightmare. There were bodies strewn everywhere, lying intermingled with the wreckage and debris that covered the floor. Bodies of young girls. Some were battered and bleeding, some had limbs twisted at impossible angles, and one was covered with what looked like third-degree burns. Beyond them he could see the battered figure of Sagat, now unconscious, still chained to the support beam.

Ryu's eyes went wide in horror, as slowly, piece by piece, the shattered fragments of his memories began to pull themselves together in his mind. He remembered coming to the warehouse. He remembered the trap that he had stumbled into. He remembered those girls, charging at him, their weapons raised to attack. He remembered...

He remembered what he had done to them.

"No..." he whispered. But the evidence was undeniable. Looking down, he noticed for the first time the bloodstains splattered across the front of his shirt, and on his fingers and knuckles. _I did this... I did it all..._

Desperately, the young man reached out with his senses. He was rewarded—he could detect tiny flickers of life, still burning in the bodies that were scattered before him.

For a moment he could scarcely believe it. It seemed impossible that any had survived such punishment, but as he remembered more details from their battle it began to make sense. _That's right. They're... not normal. I could feel it when we were fighting. They've been changed. Enhanced, somehow._

Relief washed over him in an almost physical sensation. _They're not dead..._ he thought. _Not yet. I still have a chance to make things right. I can find help. I can call a hospital. I can..._

He paused, for some reason unable to take his gaze off his fallen assailants. _I can..._

_**I can finish what I started.**_

Ryu clenched his fist._No! _he told himself, angrily. _I won't listen to this! I've got to get out of here right now, find some help for them!_

But in spite of those words, he found himself unable to move away. The dark urges, so familiar to him now, were coursing through his mind. The rage, the hatred, the bloodlust. He _wanted_ to kill. He wanted it so very, very badly.

_**It isn't done yet.**_ The thought echoed through his mind with terrifying force. _**The fight isn't done yet. I have to finish it.**_

_No!_ His teeth ground together. _I can't! It's wrong!_

_**Right and wrong are meaningless, **_his thoughts responded, wearing away at his resistance._** Death is the only truth of this world, and strength the only virtue.**_

_That's a lie!_

_**This is all that matters. This is all that has ever mattered. Embrace it.**_

_I refuse!_

_**Give in to it.**_

_No!_

_**Kill them all.**_

"No!" The hoarse cry exploded from Ryu's throat. He wrenched himself away from the injured Dolls, stumbling blindly backward until he collided with a wall of crates. His body slumped down along it, curling into a hunched position. His crazed eyes bored into the ground, staring at nothing. And still his traitorous thoughts snarled their demands at him.

With the last remnants of his willpower, he tried to calm himself. He knew that he needed to get away from this place. He needed to find—

_**Kill them.**_

—needed to find someone to help him get away because he couldn't leave the country on his own in the—

_**Kill them!**_

—in the state he was in, and he needed to get away but he couldn't remember why and it was all so—

_**KILL THEM!**_

—all so jumbled up in his head and he couldn't—

_**KILL THEM!**_

—couldn't think straight and he—

_**KILL THEM KILL THEM KILL THEM KILL THEM KILL THEM!**_

—couldn't—

_**KILL THEM **__**NOW!**_

Ryu buried his head in his hands, sobs wracking him as he fought hopelessly to retain what little was left of his sanity. Coherent thought was impossible; everything blurred into one long nightmare as, without any hope of respite, he tried to resist his own murderous desires.

How long he struggled this way, he could not tell. It could have been seconds, it could have been hours. But however long it was, eventually his torment was interrupted. With a start, Ryu realized that there was someone watching him.

Shakily, he raised his head, looking up at the newcomer who stood in front of him. She was Chinese, young, her slender figure clad in a blue uniform that was decorated with golden designs. She looked down at him, her face impassive, unreadable. He could feel her ki aura. _She's a fighter. A strong fighter._

_**A worthy opponent.**_

"Get away from me," he finally rasped, his voice barely above a whisper.

The young woman did not obey. Instead, she raised her hands, palms outward, in a gesture of nonviolence. "Listen," she said, her voice calm, soothing. "My name is Chun-li. I'm not here to fight you. I just need to figure what's going on here, and to make sure that no one's going to be hurt." She took a careful step toward him. "So let's just relax and—"

But Ryu was already too far gone. "I said... Get... _away!_" he snarled, and then, without waiting for a response, lunged at her with a punch.

Moving quickly, the young woman managed to raise her guard just in time to intercept the blow. But Ryu did not even bother trying to circumvent her defense. Instead, he simply drove his fist straight into her block.

The woman's eyes widened, as the sheer force of the blow smashed her blocking arm back into her chest, bending her over almost double and sending her flying through the air. Her body finally slammed into one of the stacks of crates, bouncing off, but leaving a large crack in the wood.

She hit the ground hard, trying to absorb some of the impact in a roll, but only partially succeeding. Obviously in pain, she nevertheless managed to quickly rise to one knee and look up, watching her attacker.

Ryu staggered, weaving back and forth drunkenly. "Run… You little fool..." he managed to plead, even as he closed in on her.

But the "little fool" showed no signs of running. She held her ground, watching the oncoming madman with hawk-like eyes. Roaring, Ryu swung at her again, but this time she was better prepared. At the last moment she flung herself sideways, dodging the blow neatly and putting some distance between the two of them.

Ryu spun around, fury twisting his features. A charge began to build in the air, and he knew that he was only seconds from loosing all control, unleashing once again the full power that he was struggling to repress. And even as his spirit was paralyzed with its struggle, his body was continuing to attack this strange newcomer on its own.

But his mindless swings were having little effect. The young woman had gotten his timing now, and even though in his current state he was both faster and stronger than she was, he found himself unable to hit her. He swung and swung, but struck only air as her lithe form darted from side to side, moving in and out of his range with elegant grace. Angrily, he increased his speed.

And then, suddenly, it happened.

She must have misread one of his movements. It was the only explanation he could think of. One moment she was dodging his blows, slipping between the punches and kicks with a fluid poise that few could match. Then, without warning, she made a terrible mistake.

It was all a jumble to Ryu, full of incoherent pieces. His opponent, moving right when she should have gone left. Weight distribution leaving her unable to escape in time. Guard in the wrong place. His fist swinging in at the side of her head. The crunch of bone.

The young woman crumpled instantly to the ground. She did not get up.

A wave of horror, cold as ice, swept over Ryu. For a long moment he just stood there, looking down dumbly at the body before him, unable to take his eyes off the hideous angle that her neck now made. He looked desperately for any sign of breath, wracked his senses for any flicker of life. All in vain.

His mind refused to comprehend it, refused to understand what he had just done. His mouth moved, forming soundless words that died on his lips. Slowly he began to back away, step by faltering step.

Suddenly he heard sounds, outside, fast approaching one of the doors. Footsteps. Many footsteps, running. Orders barked. _Policemen_, he realized. _Coming for me. They'll attack me. They'll make me fight again. It'll never end._

He ran.

His only direction was away—away from the footsteps pursuing him. He ran away for all he was worth. He could not think. He could not bear to think. He could only run, away from all the pain and the misery he had caused, as though that would make it all somehow less real.

Fortunately, there was a door in the direction he had chosen. He plowed through it blindly. He had no destination, no plan of escape. He made for an alley, instinctively remembering them as cover, as safety.

He darted in, racing down the narrow space between the concrete walls. The alley took a corner to the right. He followed it.

It led to a dead end. He screamed then, a raw cry of rage and hopelessness, his mind so lost to reason that it never occurred to him that he was giving away his position to his pursuers.

He could hear their footsteps even now, closing in on him from all directions. Desperately he looked around, and noticed a small door in the wall near the alley's end.

It the only route of escape that his fractured mind could think of. He ran for it, prepared to break it down if need be. But surprisingly, as he grabbed the knob he found it was unlocked. He could hear the footsteps, passing the mouth of the alley now. He wrenched the door open, dashed through it, and slammed it shut behind him.

Immediately, the sounds of footsteps were cut off, leaving only a calm silence in the air. It was as though he had stepped into another world. Suddenly uncertain, Ryu turned away from the door and looked around at where he was.

He was standing in a dojo.

Slowly, his pursuers forgotten, he began to walk out into the middle of the training area. It was... amazing. Everything about the place felt _right_, from the worn wooden floors to the row of cloth dummies that the students would practice their basic striking techniques on. Warmth and comfort flooded over him just being there. It was so familiar, so similar to—

He paused, rubbing his eyes and looking again. No, not similar. It was _exactly_ like his old dojo! The dojo he had grown up in, training every day with Master Gouken, and—

"Hey, Ryu!"

Ryu jerked in surprise, whirling around. He knew that voice.

There, off to his side, stood Ken Masters, clad in his usual red _gi_, his long blond hair hanging down his back. "Been a while, bro," his friend said, flashing him that wild grin of his. "You don't know how good it is to see you again."

In shock, Ryu simply stood there, trying to make sense of what he was seeing. It was all wrong, he knew. None of this made any sense. And yet, even as he tried to remember why it didn't, he found that his memories were blurred, indistinct, his thoughts slow and sluggish. "Ken…" he managed to say, in wonderment. "What are you doing here?"

"Just here to see you," answered his friend, the smile not fading. "Say, are you up for a quick sparring match? Heh, like I even need to ask."

Ryu frowned. He knew something was wrong with that. "Sparring... No! Ken, I... I can't! I used the Satsui no Hado! I made myself into a monster. I don't dare spar with anyone! I can't even..."

But Ken was looking at him strangely, head cocked in a quizzical expression. "Satsui no Hado?" he finally asked. "What's that?"

"I..." Ryu paused. He knew it meant something. Something very important. But even as he tried to recall it, he found that he was unable to do so. And the feel of the dojo was so warm, and his friend's offer so inviting… "I... don't remember."

Ken laughed. "Then it must not have been very important. C'mon, let's have a match."

* * *

Chun-li stood in the abandoned warehouse, looking down at the prone body of the young man who had been attacking her. After a few moments, she pulled her cell phone out of her pocket and dialed a number.

After a few rings, it was picked up, the sound of Rose's voice coming over the phone's tiny speaker. "Inspector. I trust that all is well?"

Chun-li didn't answer the question, but instead looked over to where all the Dolls lay strewn across the floor, and where Sagat hung chained. "We're going to need ambulances," she said. "A lot of them."

There was a quick flurry of activity on the other end, and then Rose spoke again. "On their way. What of our foe?"

"The plan worked," Chun-li responded. "He's out cold. That's a handy little trick you have there, Rose."

"We were lucky," admitted the other woman. "It was only by chance that I discovered he did not know how to see through illusions. If our battle had gone in another direction, I might never have suspected it."

"No use dwelling on what might have happened. He's beaten—that's all that matters."

"Very true. I thank you for your assistance, Inspector. No matter his inexperience, I could never have woven an illusion of such complexity and realism without someone to distract his attention as I was doing it."

Chun-li looked back down at the unconscious young man. "My pleasure. Now let's get him back to the police station. We've brought him down; now we need to figure out just what we're going to do with him."

* * *

Thailand, March 14

Bison stood, alone, in the massive underground chamber. Around him, the hum of circuitry echoed eerily through the cavernous expanse. There were countless unidentifiable devices in that place, built into the walls, the floors, with cables snaking everywhere to connect them. But all of them were merely in the service of the machine that stood in the center of the chamber, the machine that Bison was even now gazing at.

It towered over him, a huge column that connected floor and ceiling. Most of it was transparent, allowing Bison to watch the immense quantities of energy that were continuously surging through it. He felt rejuvenated simply being here, near to the cornerstone of his empire. The Psycho Drive.

The purple radiance from the Drive bathed him in its light, casting flickering shadows across his face. He gazed back at it, mesmerized. He could sense the corrupt energy that the Drive produced, could draw on it until it permeated his entire being. It was a feeling of raw, indescribable_ power_.

Abruptly, his expression twisted into one of annoyance. "This had best be important," he snapped, glancing over his shoulder at the man whose arrival had interrupted his meditation.

The man, a thin, pasty-skinned man clad in a while lab coat, swallowed hard and bowed deep. "Milord, we received a priority communication from Killer Bee in the command center, regarding her surveillance of the target."

Bison turned to face him head on, looking down with contempt at the smaller man. "Go on."

The man swallowed again. "Milord... She reports that the target has been apprehended by Interpol." He flinched, anticipating the reaction that was to come.

He was not disappointed. "What?" Bison demanded, unchecked fury burning in his eyes. "_What did you say?_"

"Interpol, milord!" quaked the small man, cowering. "Working with that woman, Rose! They subdued the target and—"

A roar of animal rage came from Bison's throat. "Impossible!" he finally spat. "None of them even _begin_ to approach the power of the target. He should have crushed them without a thought!"

The messenger only stood there, unable to think of anything to say. At length, Bison regained his composure. "Damn that woman and her trickery. I must make certain to kill her this time. Have you begun the modifications to the Psycho Drive?"

The small man nodded, vigorously. "We were monitoring the feed from Killer Bee while the target was active, and we've already begun to calibrate the additional components." Here he cringed. "However, it... is a very delicate process. It will take at least a day's worth of work to..."

Bison glared at him. "If you value your lives, I suggest you work your very hardest to complete those modifications. If I lose my prize because of your negligence, I will not be pleased."

"But milord..." whined the man, his voice quavering with fear. "We're already pushing the Drive to the upper limits of the power it can safely produce. If we go much farther, Doctor Zahar is worried that we may loose control of the reaction."

Bison ignored the plea. "I know better than anyone alive the exact limitations of the Psycho Drive, and it is capable of fulfilling its part in the plan. Your part is merely to follow the orders that you are given." He turned his back on his servant. "Now leave me. I must contemplate how to salvage this situation."

That was one order that the small man had no trouble obeying. Bowing once more, he scampered hurriedly away, leaving Bison to concoct his dark plans.


	12. Deception

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Street Fighter in any way, shape or form. It and all associated characters, trademarks, etc. are owned by Capcom. I'm just telling some stories about them.

* * *

Chapter Twelve: Deception

Japan, March 14

With a cry of "_Tatsumakisenpukyaku!_" Ken launched himself into the air. The Hurricane Kick was perfectly executed; the young American shot toward his friend, leg outstretched, spinning in a blinding blur of kicks.

Ryu reacted quickly. Moving backward with a quick series of hops, he kept just out of range. When Ken came out of the technique, he was ready. Grabbing Ken's kicking foot as it dropped, he jerked it upward, unbalancing his friend. Then in one smooth motion he crouched low into a sweep kick, knocking Ken's other foot out from under him even as it touched the dojo floor. Ken went down on his back.

With a small smile Ryu stood, offering a hand to his friend. "You know," he said. "If Master were here, he'd be beside himself at how recklessly you're fighting. Leaving yourself too open, exposing too many vulnerabilities..."

Ken took the hand, pulling himself up, a grin on his face. "Hey, don't knock it—it works most of the time. You're just the only one who knows me well enough not to be psyched out by it."

Ryu chuckled, then shook his head. "Come on Ken, you know that's not true. There are plenty of warriors out there that it wouldn't rattle. In fact, the last man I fought in the Street Fighter tournament was..."

But his voice trailed off, unable to complete the sentence. He knew there was something there, a face, a name... There was something important that he should remember about that man. Except that somehow, he couldn't. It was something that had been happening to him more and more of late. At least, he thought it had. He couldn't remember that very well either.

Ken gave Ryu's shoulder a friendly punch, interrupting his thoughts. "Anyway, it doesn't matter. I can stomach losing a few fights, so long as I do it with style. You should try it sometime; you might like it better than your boring old stick-in-the-mud way of doing things."

Ryu smiled. But it was a forced, empty smile; inside, he was in turmoil. How could everything feel so right, and yet at the same time so very wrong, so false and hollow? Everything was exactly as he remembered it. Everything was exactly as he would expect it to be. And yet...

"Hey, up for another match, bro?"

Ryu almost answered yes, but something made him pause. How many matches had he had today with Ken, anyway? He couldn't quite remember that either. For several seconds, he did not answer, plagued by half-formed doubts.

But in the end, he was unable to think of any reason why he shouldn't accept his friend's offer. The day was still young, after all. And really, what could just one more hurt? "I'm game if you are."

Ken grinned. "That's the spirit," he said. "Let's see how well you do this time."

* * *

Chun-li stepped into the cell block of the police station, giving it a quick once-over. Not too large; it had only a handful of cells. Not in the best of upkeep either; the off-white paint was peeling off the walls in many places. But all the same, walls were walls and iron bars were iron bars, and the ones in this jail looked solid enough.

Not that they were expecting iron bars to hold their current prisoner, of course.

"Have you gotten anything out of him?" asked the policewoman.

"Very little." Rose looked up from where she sat on the floor, in lotus position. "It is a delicate business, searching a mind without it realizing what is happening. Surface thoughts are easy enough to pick up, but were I to try and search his deeper memories it would be easy for _him_ to remember those same memories at the same time."

"Which would be bad."

"Indeed. The wrong memory could make him realize that he is trapped in my dreamworld. Even as it is, his suspicions are beginning to grow."

Chun-li walked over to where Rose sat, and turned to look into the cell. The young man lay sprawled on one of the bunks hanging from the wall. "What have you learned?"

Rose sighed. "Trivia, mostly. His name is Ryu. He is a martial artist, trained here in Japan along with an American friend of his. His sensei is no longer living. I could not determine the circumstances of his death—that memory was tightly linked to the darkness inside him."

"Since his master's death he has been traveling the world, pursuing his training by challenging other fighters and learning from their battles. He has participated in a few underground fighting tournaments, winning each of them."

"Then, about two weeks ago... something happened to him. I have been completely unable to pry into that particular memory. All I know is that he made reference to his using something called the 'Satsui no Hado..' He claimed that it had turned him into a monster."

"After that event, I can read only a few scattered fragments of his memories. But from what I can gather he has been hiding out in the alleys of this city, scavenging food from dumpsters, avoiding all human contact. Until Bison managed to locate him, that is, and sent his servants to attack him."

Chun-li walked over to the cell bars, looking at the unconscious form, remembering her own experience in the warehouse, remembering him desperately trying to warn her away. "He's trying to fight what he's become," she said softly. "He doesn't want that power we saw him using."

Rose shook her head, her face grim. "A part of him doesn't, perhaps. But only a part—and that part may be in a losing battle. He _wants_ to kill, Inspector. He thrives on it now. My power is blocking out those murderous urges for the moment... but I cannot keep it up forever. Eventually he will have to face them again."

"And what happens then?"

Rose hesitated for a long moment. Finally, she spoke. "It... may be best if we do not allow matters to progress that far."

Dead silence. Slowly, Chun-li turned back to face Rose, her face suddenly unreadable. "What exactly are you suggesting?" she asked, her voice quiet.

Rose met the younger woman's gaze without flinching. "I am suggesting that we end this threat. Permanently."

"You're suggesting that we murder him."

She hid it well, but the policewoman could tell that Rose was stung by the words. "He is a menace, Inspector. If he recovers consciousness he could kill everyone in this city."

"Maybe he _could_." Chun-li replied, her brown eyes boring into Rose's blue. "But _would_ he? He has the power... but he didn't use it on me, even when we fought. Do you believe he would use it now?"

"His bloodlust is—"

"Not what I asked." There was definitely a hard edge to Chun-li's voice now. "You're the one inside his head; it shouldn't be that hard a question. In your estimation, if he were released from the illusion—after you had done everything in your power to help him calm back down—would he attack unprovoked?"

Rose glanced away. "It is... possible that he would not."

Chun-li had not risen to her current rank by neglecting her interrogation skills. Few could read the cues in a voice better than her. "Possible?" she asked, raising an eyebrow slightly.

Rose's lip twisted in an expression of distaste. "Probable," she admitted. "It is probable he would not attack us. At least, not immediately. What he will do in time, as those urges wear at his resistance... I cannot say."

"So what you're suggesting is that we kill an unconscious prisoner, without trial, who is 'probably' not a threat." Chun-li shook her head. "I'm not prepared to do that."

"You had better be," Rose snapped. "There may well be thousands of lives at stake here, Inspector. Even the slightest risk that he will fall is too great to accept when dealing with someone of his power."

"There's _always_ a risk," Chun-li snapped back. "Every time you pick the right thing over the expedient thing, there's a risk. And as I see the odds, the life of someone who for all we know is an innocent is worth taking that risk."

Slowly the fortune-teller rose to her feet, her eyes blazing with anger. "His life?" she demanded, jabbing her finger in at their prisoner. "I suppose you think this decision is to his benefit?"

"What, you mean not killing him? I would think so, yes!"

"Then you're a fool!" Rose was yelling at Chun-li now, who was for her part taken aback. She had never thought she would see this mysterious woman lose her composure like this. "You would put countless lives in peril, and for what? Merely to prolong the suffering of a poor wretch like him! Do you honestly think that boy would thank you for sparing his life, Inspector? _Do you have any idea what it's like to live with that kind of darkness in your soul?_"

"No, I don't." Chun-li replied, softly. "Do you?"

Rose turned away, realizing she had revealed too much. "I am... My situation is... different. But I... do know something of what he endures."

There was silence for a long moment. Finally Chun-li spoke again, a note of compassion in her voice. "Be that as it may, he hasn't given up on his life yet, and I have neither the authority nor the inclination to simply kill him as he sleeps. If you want this partnership to continue, I need you to accept that... and promise me that you'll take no unprovoked action against him."

Rose said nothing, but after a moment she nodded once. When she finally spoke, it was in a subdued voice. "I will continue to investigate his memories, then."

Suddenly very tired, Chun-li turned to leave. She knew, of course, all the Interpol directives and regulations concerning the use of lethal force—knew them by heart. And she knew even more the code of justice and honor that her father had instilled in her as a child. She knew that her appraisal of the situation was sound, and she knew that her decision was the best one under the circumstances.

But all the knowledge in the world would not allay the doubts that gnawed at her. _But what if I'm wrong? What if it turns out he can't control himself? What if my decision does end up being responsible for the thousands of deaths Rose talked about?_

She wrapped her arms around herself, as though cold. _I understand why you feel the way you do, Rose,_ she thought to herself. _I don't agree with it, but I understand all too well._

* * *

Much later that evening, Chun-li leaned back in her chair, staring up at the ceiling of her temporary office. Returning to her hotel would have been more comfortable, of course, but she was not about to leave the station as long as their prisoner was there. If Bison launched another attack, she wanted to be close on hand.

She sighed. Her past few hours had been spent in thought, trying to come up with what her next step should be. They had captured the man that Bison was hunting. Now what? Wait for the crime lord to make another move? Keep searching the mind of their prisoner, looking for who knew what? Or should they bring him out of the illusion now, and confront that mystery head on?

There were simply too few facts, too little data to go on. All they could do for the moment was to learn more, to try and discover the best course of action. Just like always, they were two steps behind, playing a desperate game of catch-up against the crime lord.

Reaching into her pocket, she took out her wallet and flipped it open. Her eyes fell at once on the photograph inside it, the one she had carried with her through firefights and across continents. It was of her and her father, taken several years ago.

Her father's arm was draped around her shoulder, pulling her smaller form tightly against him in a display of emotion that was uncharacteristic for the normally reserved man. They were both smiling. It had been taken on the day of her acceptance into Interpol training academy, the youngest to ever make it in—then or since. He had been so proud of her on that day, talking constantly about her to anyone who would listen to him.

The memory was a happy one, so happy that it cut at her like a knife, piercing her heart to the very core. She smiled. It was either that or cry, and she had promised long ago that she would no longer do that.

_What would you say if you were here, Father?_ she wondered. _Would you still be proud of me now? Would you think that I'm making the right decisions? How would you have handled a mess like this one?_

A quiet rap on the door interrupted her thoughts. Chun-li straightened up, closing the wallet and stuffing it back into her pocket. "Come in."

Inspector Takahashi entered, closing the door behind him. "Hello," he said amiably. "I just wanted to let you know, I got the information you asked for about the condition of the victims we found at the warehouse."

"Thank you." Chun-li stood, walking over toward the Inspector. "What's the prognosis?"

"Well, it seems that the big fellow, Sagat, was really the one that got off the easiest," Takahashi explained. "His leg is fractured in a couple places, and he's been beaten pretty savagely, but nothing compared to the others. The medics are keeping him under, and they're probably going to have quite a bit of surgery, but he's not in any real danger."

"What about the Dolls?"

"Ah, yes. The Dolls." Takahashi scratched his head. "They're... not entirely sure what to make of their condition. The thing is, by all rights most of them should be dead. And yet, somehow, they're still clinging to life, every last one of them."

"Bison's handiwork," Chun-li said, nodding grimly. "I never thought I'd be thankful for his experiments, but they saved those girls' lives in the end. Do the doctors think they'll pull through?"

Takahashi shrugged. "Anybody's guess, at this point. And even if they do, we don't know if we can undo whatever that monster did to their minds to make them like they are. For now, all we can do is hope."

Chun-li nodded, and made a mental note to ask Rose if there was anything that could be done for them. The mysterious woman certainly seemed more than competent in the affairs of the mind.

But Takahashi was continuing. "That only leaves Balrog, then," he said. "He didn't fare as well as the others."

Chun-li's head shot up at the mention of the Shadowlaw lieutenant's name, her face puzzled. "Balrog? I didn't see him at the warehouse."

Takahashi smiled mirthlessly. "You didn't see him because he wasn't there," he said. "Or at least, not entirely. He doesn't seem to have had quite the same resiliency that our Doll friends had, and probably not their skill either. Going back over the scene, our people found... pieces of him. Enough pieces that we're reasonably confident the rest of him wouldn't be alive, even if it were intact."

Despite herself, a cold shiver ran up and down Chun-li's spine at the words. _I really hope I know what I'm doing..._ she thought to herself. _I really hope that I'm right, that this Ryu really isn't going to fall to this kind of bloodlust unprovoked. Because if I'm wrong..._

Suddenly, an idea sparked to life in her mind. _Bloodlust..._ she thought, sitting up a bit straighter. _Yes, it is bloodlust, isn't it? Why didn't that occur to me sooner?_

Admittedly, it was a bit of a long shot. But far longer shots had paid off for her before. "Hold on a minute," she told the other Inspector, raising a finger to interrupt his report. "I may have just thought of something we've missed."

Takahashi's eyebrows went up in surprise. "Please, share."

Chun-li folded her hands in thought. "All right. The first time we saw this guy cut loose, it was from a distance. We didn't know exactly what had happened—just that it had obliterated an island. Then later we got impressions of an evil, destructive force. So it all fit together, so far as it went. No obvious missing pieces."

"But today. Did you notice that there was hardly any collateral damage today? He levels an entire island the first time he flips out, but the second time he barely touches anything—except for the people he's fighting. Believe me, even _I_ could cause more destruction than he did over the course of a fight, if I wanted to."

Now Takahashi could see where she was going with it. "Which suggests he's not interested in abstract destruction, even when he is in that state. His mania is specifically directed at other people that he fights and kills. That means that he wouldn't have smashed that island into rubble just for the sake of doing it. And that means..."

"...that there was someone else there," finished Chun-li. "Someone he was fighting. Someone powerful enough that the island was destroyed just from their battle taking place on it."

There was silence for a moment, as each one digested the implications of their discovery. Then Takahashi asked the obvious question. "All right, so then what happened to this person?"

"Well, our friend in the cell is obviously still alive, and we found no bodies on the island. So I can see three possibilities," Chun-li replied. "One: our hypothetical second person lost the fight, was killed, and his body destroyed or otherwise disposed of. Two: he lost the fight, but managed to escape. Three, he didn't lose, but for some reason didn't kill his opponent either."

Takahashi nodded slowly. "It's definitely worth looking into. For possibility one, if the body was disposed by dumping it into the ocean we can search the water and the coastlines, see if any mysterious corpses have washed ashore since the day of the event. For possibility two, we can call around to local hospitals, asking if anyone came in with suspicious injuries on or around the day of the event. If this person did escape, he likely could have been wounded."

"Good idea."

"Thank you. I'll get right on it." Takahashi frowned. "But what about possibility three?"

"I don't know," admitted Chun-li. "But I hope it isn't that one."

"Why not?"

The Chinese woman sighed. "Because even though it was from a distance, I saw how that battle ended on the tape. Whatever that last move was, it was something evil. If there's something like that out there, but even stronger than _this_ guy..." she shook her head. "No, I really hope it isn't that one."

* * *

Ryu dropped to one knee, reaching down with his hands to scoop up water from the stream that ran by the dojo. Then he splashed it across his face. It felt good; crisp, clean, cold. He needed it, needed the sharp sensation to help jog his thoughts. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong.

He had begged off of another match with Ken—just how many had he had today, anyway?—on the excuse that he needed to rest a bit before continuing. Ken had been disappointed, and had pressed him to continue until Ryu had become a little astonished at his friend's uncharacteristic insistence. But eventually the young American had relented, and Ryu was now free to think things over.

But that was proving surprisingly difficult to do. He tried to focus, but every time his brain managed to hold on to a thought, one of the ones he had captured before slipped out of his grasp. The sense of wrongness haunted him; it was nothing he could but words to, simply an intangible impression, a whisper in his mind that was just barely too soft to make out.

_I know something's out of place,_ he thought, as he tried futilely to clear his head. _There's something I should remember, something I should know. Something that I—_

At that moment he happened to once more glance down at the stream, his brown eyes looking at his reflection there.

Glowing red eyes gazed back up at him. In the water, his face twisted into a cruel sneer.

With a start, he jerked himself away from the image, landing on his backside a couple feet away, breathing heavily. He did not know why seeing that had affected him so, but he knew beyond all doubt that it was not an overreaction. Slowly, after a few moments, he got back up and looked into the stream once more.

He saw nothing out of the ordinary, only his normal reflection. Nevertheless, a shudder passed through him at the sight.

* * *

In the cell block of the police station, Rose's eyes flew open. "No..." she breathed. "Not so soon..."

But it had been unmistakable. Brief, but unmistakable. The darkness was breaking through. She had hoped to stretch the illusion out for much longer before it came to this, to learn as much as she could before she finally made her move. But there was no more time. It would have to be now.

She readied herself, steeling her mind to the task at hand—but then paused for a moment, glancing back over her shoulder to where she could feel Chun-li's presence, just a few offices away.

A pang of guilt jabbed at her heart, but she silenced it. This was for the greater good. There was too much at stake, too many innocent lives that would be lost if the boy's will faltered—or far worse, if Bison ever succeeded in acquiring his power. No, this had to be done.

Even if the young woman whom she had begun to count as a friend would never see it that way.

"I'm sorry..." she whispered softly, her voice barely audible even to herself.

Then she turned back to face the cell, and the young man inside. Closing her eyes, she reached out once again with her mind toward his.


	13. Betrayal

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Street Fighter in any way, shape or form. It and all associated characters, trademarks, etc. are owned by Capcom. I'm just telling some stories about them.

* * *

Chapter Thirteen: Betrayal

Japan, March 14

Ryu walked though the forest, threading his way between the trees, his head was bowed in thought. He could not explain the sense of unease that was gripping him, but he knew with utter certainty that something was wrong. Deadly wrong. The vision he had seen in the stream—his own warped reflection—haunted him. What had caused it? And what did it mean?

He clenched his fists in frustration, continuing to struggle against the ever-present fog that still clouded his mind. It was an exhausting effort of the will to keep even a simple train of thought alive, and twice he came close to losing the memory of what he had seen in the water completely. _Am I going mad?_ he wondered. _What's happening to me?_

No answers came. He continued to walk, not even sure of where he was going, or why. All he had were inexplicable, conflicting feelings. That he was trapped. That he was hunted. That he was loosing his mind.

Behind him, a twig snapped.

Immediately he whirled, his hands raised in a fighting stance. But whatever he had been expecting, it was not what he saw. Standing there was a woman, tall, slender, dressed in drab hiking gear. The one odd thing about her was her hair—purple, done up in an exotic, angular style.

"Hello," the woman said, in flawless Japanese. "Who are you?"

Still surprised at the woman's sudden appearance, Ryu nonetheless responded. "My name is Ryu," he told her. "May I ask yours?"

"I am Rose," she responded pleasantly. "I was taking a walk in these lovely forests, and I'm afraid that I've quite lost my way. Do you know of any place where I could rest and get my bearings again?"

Ryu considered this. She would not be the first hiker that had stumbled into this part of the forest—it had usually happened once or twice a year during his training with Master Gouken. Still, there was something about her that made him wary, a subtle whisper of suspicion that he could not quite shake. For a few moments he simply stood there, silent, brow furrowed in thought.

But in the end he knew that he could not simply leave her out here to wander aimlessly. He had, after all, no real grounds for thinking anything ill of her. Master Gouken had never withheld hospitality from any of the weary hikers while the dojo had been his, and neither would Ryu.

"The only place nearby is where I live," he said at length. "But you're welcome there. You can rest, and have something to eat and drink. It's a fair distance to the nearest road; you'll need your strength." He pointed in the direction of the dojo and made an inviting gesture with his hand.

For the briefest instant a strange emotion—pain? guilt?—seemed to flash through the woman's eyes, but it was quickly masked. In its place, the woman smiled. "Oh, thank you very much!" she said brightly. "Please, lead the way. I'll be right behind you."

* * *

The trek back to the dojo was spent mostly in silence.

Although it was not his strong suit, Ryu did make a few attempts at conversation out of a sense of propriety toward his guest. Rose's replies were always courteous, but brief. Her mind seemed always to be someplace else, wrestling with some other train of thought. At first Ryu wondered at it, but the more they walked, the less he did so. The woman was radiating such a feeling of peace, of calm, that such things began to seem much less important than they might otherwise have.

When at last they arrived back at the dojo, late afternoon had faded into evening. They ascended the stairs that led up the hill, until they reached the small wooden training hall that stood atop it. Ryu offered the woman a seat, which she graciously accepted. He then went to prepare some food—two bowls of rice—and water enough for both of them.

When he returned, he found that his guest had left her seat. After a few moments of searching, he found her standing in the doorway to the dojo, looking out at the setting sun.

The burning sphere was beginning to sink behind the trees, the sky darkening from red to black behind it as it went. But still a few rays shone out, staining the clouds around it with threads of color that struggled valiantly against the oncoming night. Some of the light even managed to reach where the woman was standing, its fading radiance painting her with a golden hue. It suddenly struck Ryu how very sad she looked.

"So beautiful..." she murmured softly—and he could not tell if she was speaking more to him, or to herself. "You must have watched this often, for the scene to be ingrained this vividly."

It seemed an odd thing to say, but for some vague reason Ryu felt disinclined to dwell on that. "I... do watch the sunset when I can," he admitted. "Ever since I was a boy."

Rose said nothing in reply, only nodded, continuing to look outside. Ryu joined her at the doorway. "I brought you this," he said, offering the food and drink to her. "I'm sorry if it's a bit plain. We don't have much out here."

The woman turned to look at him, then at the food in his outstretched hands. "It's... perfect," she said at last, accepting it. For a long moment she said nothing, then she spoke again. "Thank you very much for all your kindness."

Ryu shifted his feet uncomfortably, unsure of how to respond. "You're welcome," he said at last. Then came another uncomfortable silence, until at last Ryu managed to come up with something to fill it with. "We can eat out on the steps," he offered helpfully. "If you want."

Rose nodded. They both walked out and seated themselves on the steps at the front of the dojo, watching the last fading flickers of sunlight together.

Soon Ryu had finished his bowl of rice. Oddly enough, however, Rose did not eat much at all—which Ryu thought was strange for someone who had been hiking all day. But her appetite seemed to have utterly deserted her; she swallowed a few bites for appearance's sake, but nothing beyond that. Instead she simply picked at her food with her chopsticks, an unreadable expression on her face.

Nor did she meet his eyes—except for once or twice. Each time it appeared as though she was about to say something to him, but each time she had changed her mind, looking back down at her uneaten food once more.

The meal continued to pass in silence. The sun continued to drop in the sky. At last, Ryu spoke up. "It's quite a ways to the nearest town," he said. "I could accompany you if you wish, or you could stay here for the night. I can sleep in the—"

"Enough." The word was spoken in a raw voice, tearing itself out of Rose's throat without warning. Ryu's eyebrows went up in surprise.

"I'm sorry..." he said, confused at the woman's reaction. "Have I done something to...?"

Rose turned to face him once again, and Ryu could see in her eyes the same pain that he had caught a glimpse of earlier that day. They sat there for a moment, silent, looking at each other.

Then Rose lowered her eyes. "Do you believe that a person can live a truly good life?" she asked. "Do you believe it's even possible in this world?"

It seemed a rather odd question to ask. Ryu's face bent into a puzzled frown. "What do you mean?"

"What if..." Her voice faltered, but she pushed forward. "What if you had to make a choice, Ryu? Between doing something evil, or letting something far worse happen? Wouldn't it be your responsibility to... to make things turn out for the best, even if it meant putting a stain of darkness on your own soul?" She looked at him pleadingly as she spoke.

Slowly, Ryu looked down at his hands. Rose's words echoed within him, shaking him to his core. The thoughts that she had given voice to were terrifyingly familiar, although he could not say why. He knew, somehow, that they were the thoughts of someone he had once known very well—or at least, had thought he had. Were they the thoughts of a foe? A friend? A brother? A teacher? A father?

Himself?

"It isn't that simple," he said quietly, the words falling from his mouth unbidden—as though it were someone else speaking. "That stain you talk about... it marks you in ways you can't even begin to imagine. And in the end, you may find that you've caused greater evil than what you hoped to stop."

Rose looked stricken for a moment, then turned away abruptly. There was silence for a long, long while, as they sat there in the darkening dusk. Finally, Rose spoke again, her voice emotionless. "You must be very tired, Ryu."

Ryu began to correct her, to explain that he wasn't tired at all—but to his surprise he found that he was. "I..." he began, then blinked and rubbed at his eyes. "I guess I am a bit sleepy... I'm sorry... Don't know what's come over me..." He stifled a yawn, as his head began to sway drunkenly.

"It's perfectly all right," replied Rose, her voice soothing. "Just lie down for a moment. You've had a long, hard day. It's only natural that you should want to rest." Ryu wanted to say something in reply to that, but he could not put the thoughts together. Instead, he found himself slumping over toward the ground.

Rose's hands caught him as he dropped, gently guiding him down so that his head was resting on her lap. "Shh..." she whispered, stroking his hair in a comforting manner. "It's all right. Just relax. Rest. It'll all be over soon."

The words barely registered with Ryu. His mind was smothered in lethargy, his thoughts dull and sluggish. Slowly, his eyes began to close. His breathing slowed, growing quieter and quieter. In his chest he could feel each heartbeat thumping, and strangely, with each one they seemed to grow farther and farther apart.

Far away, some small part of his mind realized that something was very wrong with all this. But he was just too tired. Surely, whatever it was, it could wait until later. Just a few minutes of sleep was all he would need... Just... a little... rest...

_"Is this the best you can do, boy?"_

Rose's head snapped up. Her eyes were wide, filled with shock and horror. She knew that voice.

He stood in front of them, glowering down at the seated pair. His image was faint, transparent in places, but unmistakable nonetheless. The dark cloak shrouding the blood-red uniform. The winged-skull insignia on the military cap. The cruel sneer, and the lifeless eyes.

"Impossible..." whispered Rose, unbelieving. "You can't be... You're hundreds of miles away from here! How are you doing this? _How are you doing this?_"

But Bison paid her no attention. "Get up!" he snarled, addressing the young man. "Don't you see what she's doing to you, boy? She's trying to kill you!"

Desperately, Rose thrust out her hand in the image's direction, a purple glow coalescing around it. Bison grimaced, his image beginning to waver, but he did not stop speaking. "Everything you see around you is her illusion and trickery! She trapped you here, played with your mind, dulled your power, and now she means to finish you off!"

Rose gritted her teeth, her eyes flashing with energy as she struggled to displace Bison's presence from the dreamworld. The madman's form was flickering in and out of existence now, even as he continued to give his warning. "Fight it, boy! Steel your mind against her! If you place any value at all on that wretched hide of yours, then get up off the ground and fi—"

With one last exertion of willpower on Rose's part, Bison's figure winked out of existence completely. Immediately she looked down at Ryu, trying to see if any of her plan could yet be salvaged.

But the damage had been done. Brown, alert eyes gazed back up at her.

Pushing roughly off of her, Ryu rolled away, coming back up to his knees several meters away. The two of them locked eyes, no words passing between them, each of their faces impassive. Then, slowly Rose stood to her feet. "I had hoped to give you a peaceful end," she said simply.

As she spoke, the hiking clothes she had been wearing blurred, reforming into her brightly colored garments. Her ki aura surged, exploding to life with a force that made Ryu stagger back a few paces. Purple energy wreathed her form, crackling around her, her eyes flashing with it.

Ryu's hands snapped up in reply, as he took a fighting stance. He did not fully understand what was going on; much of his mind was still clouded by Rose's power. His perception was still smothered. His power was still weakened. But now, at least, he had a focus.

Now he knew what he was fighting.

With a flick of her wrist, Rose sent a blast of ki hurtling toward the young man. But he was already moving. The ki projectile slammed into the ground where he had been standing in a spectacular detonation, pelting him with dirt and debris even as he ran toward her.

Rose followed that blast with a second, a third, a fourth, each as powerful as the last. Ryu did not slack his speed. Running full tilt, he angled his course to dodge the first two attacks, slipping back and forth between them with inches to spare. The final blast he jumped, taking to the air in a flying kick aimed at Rose's head.

Rose regarded his attack with indifference. At the last moment, just before the kick slammed her in the face, she dodged to the left.

And, simultaneously, to the right.

Ryu landed from his kick, backing away quickly. His eyes switched back and forth between the two identical Roses that now stood before him, as he adjusted to this new development. Two opponents. But which one was real?

"It is hopeless," said the Rose on his left, her voice laced with pity. "Surely you can see that."

He focused on that figure. It had spoken—but if his foe's power could create an illusory world, he had to assume ventriloquism was within her grasp. Was she trying to lure him into attacking that image, leaving him open for the other? Or was it a double-bluff?

"Power you may have." This time it was the other Rose speaking. They were beginning to circle him now. "But you have no experience fighting in this plane. You cannot win."

Ryu ignored her, his eyes searching every detail of the two figures. He could find no differences, nothing to indicate which to attack. And how did he even know that either of them was real? What if the woman had merely conjured two phantoms, and hidden herself from his sight completely? Was that within her abilities?

But if there was one thing he knew, it was that in a fight, indecision was death. With a burst of speed, he charged the one that had spoken first.

As one, the two figures each unwound the shawl that they wore around their shoulders, the pieces of cloth glowing with unnatural radiance as they did so. The one he was facing swung hers high, sending it writhing toward his face.

He twisted in mid-step, going down into a low leg sweep that would have taken her legs out from under her. But the second his leg touched hers, her form dissolved into nothingness. _Illusion!_

A split-second later, the shawl of the second Rose coiled around his neck from behind. No sooner had it latched hold than the woman sent a massive ki discharge flowing through it. Ryu cried out in agony—it felt as though every cell in his body was boiling, and try though he might he could not break free.

Pushing through the pain, Ryu whirled to face his attacker. His hand shot out, latching onto the glowing cloth between them, then quickly spun his wrist to wind it around his hand. He yanked downward, causing Rose to stumble, and then sprang at her with a fierce side kick. But just as before, her image faded out of existence the instant he touched it

Ryu glanced around, his breath coming in rasps, his vision still blurred from whatever energy Rose had hit him with. The area was apparently vacant, and looking down the stairs he could see no one at its base, but he did not for a moment believe that his victory would be that easy. No, his foe was biding her time, setting up her traps, waiting for him to drop his guard.

Even as he pondered this, another wave of unnatural lethargy washed over him. He staggered, reeling, but once again he managed to fight it back. _More tricks_, he thought grimly. _More games. I need to finish this, before she overwhelms me completely._

Closing his eyes, quieting his thoughts, he reached out with his senses. It was almost impossible; Rose's power was playing havoc with his mind. Nevertheless, as second after second ticked by, he began to feel her general location. His eyes flicked open, turning to look through the doorway into the dojo. _There. She's in there somewhere._

Slowly he began to walk toward the dojo, his gaze sweeping back and forth as he did so. He stepped over the threshold, making his way into the darkened training floor. His eyes were straining at every shadow, his every sense as alert as he could manage.

Step by step, he made his way into the center of the room. The wooden floorboards creaked under his feet, exactly as he remembered. The eerie familiarity, in a place that he knew was a fake and a sham, unsettled him.

_Above!_

Ryu's hands shot over his head in a cross-block, catching Rose's foot as she plummeted down from the rafters in a drop kick. Immediately his hands scissored together, trapping her ankle. Then he flung her away, sending her flying the length of the dojo.

She twisted with his throw, turning her descent into a mid-air backflip, and landing on her feet, her hands already blazing with purple energy. Ryu stepped back into his fighting stance, facing her.

Then, to his left, another Rose stepped out of the shadows. And then another, to his right. And then another, and another, and another. Ryu slowly turned back and forth, trying to keep track of them all, but it was impossible. Soon there were over a twenty images of Rose surrounding him, each gazing at him with deadly intensity.

And then, as if responding to some unspoken signal, they all swarmed toward him.

He met them head-on, singling out one of the attackers and running to meet her. His foot blazing out in a lightning-fast double kick, feinting high at her head, then abruptly changing direction to slam into her knee. As before, the image faded away without injury.

And then they were on him. One of the nearest lunged at him, her fingers speared in a strike at his throat. He parried, trapping her hand in a wristlock and twisting to shove her into the path of two more oncoming images. But hardly had he done so than he felt a high-heeled foot slam into his back from behind, making him stumble. He whirled around, just in time to deflect another flurry of kicks, launched by a pair of the images. He backpedaled under their combined assault, arms blurring, absorbing blow after blow, sometimes managing an attack in return.

But with each image that he destroyed, more and more joined the fray. They were pouring from the shadows, replacing their fallen, even adding to their number. He was completely hemmed in, whirling back and forth as he made a furious, desperate defense on all sides.

Soon more of their strikes began to get through. A shawl coiled around his legs, jerking him off his feet. He rolled to the side quickly, narrowly dodging a foot stomp that splintered the dojo floor where his head had been—only to roll directly into a kick from another image that slammed into his rib cage.

The image who had kicked him tried to stomp his head in as well, but he managed to catch hold of her foot as it plummeted down. The heel of her shoe stopped scant inches above his face for an instant, and then he torqued his grip in a joint break that would have snapped her ankle. Her figure faded just before he got that far.

He rolled to his feet as fast as he could, only to take a kick across the face, spinning him around and almost sending him to the floor again. He managed to fend off a half-dozen more attacks, until a kick crashed into his knee from behind, bringing him down to one knee in a cry of pain.

Immediately, one of the Roses to his side delivered a kick to his stomach, doubling him over. Another one behind him grabbed him by his hair, yanking his head back, then shoving it forward directly into a kick performed by a Rose in front of him. White exploded across his vision, as he felt something snap in his jaw.

The image behind him dragged his head back again, ready to repeat the action. As she did so, Ryu pushed off of his uninjured knee, propelling himself backward. But the image was too quick; with a fluid motion she twisted out of his path, using her grip on his hair to slam him to the ground. From there she lifted him one-handed to his feet, her other hand glowing ominously.

With a cry, she thrust her palm into Ryu's chest. The energy in her hand detonated spectacularly, flinging him the length of the dojo. His body slammed into the far wall, before falling to the floor in a heap.

He might have blacked out for a few seconds; he wasn't sure. All he knew was that he was on the ground, blood pooling in his mouth, his body throbbing in agony. His thoughts were fragmented, disjointed, but there was one feeling overriding them all. The pain—in his face, in his side, in his knee... it felt...

It felt...

_...right._

The pain cut like a hot knife through the haze that choked his mind. The agony was beautiful, a spike of reality hammered into the waking dream he was snared in. It touched something deep within him, connecting with something at the very core of his being, more primal than any thought or memory.

Inch by inch, he managed to lift one of his hands, then moved over to plant it on the dojo floor. Gritting his teeth he pushed off of it, slowly, painfully raising himself to one knee. He looked up, to see the images all watching him, their expressions unreadable.

_She thinks I'm beaten,_ he thought grimly. _She sees this as my last, pitiful gasp. And maybe it is._

_But if it is... I go down fighting._

Suddenly, he surged to his feet. His injured knee almost gave out, and he staggered for a few moments. Even once he had caught his balance he was still unsteady, his leg quivering as though it might buckle at any moment. But he was standing. He was standing, and in that moment, that was all that mattered.

He faced the crowd of images, his gaze flicking from one to another. Then, defiantly, he raised his hands in a fighting stance.

And despite all Rose's attempts to suppress it, despite all her mental tricks and techniques, despite all her precautions and plans, Ryu's ki aura began to burn brighter and brighter.

* * *

As she watched the boy's power begin to rise, the real Rose raised her eyebrows in mild surprise. _He's breaking through the blocks I placed on his power, even without training..._ she thought. _And if they are falling, then the blocks on his dark taint may be in danger as well. Nonetheless, I still hold the advantage; he cannot fight what he cannot see._

She was standing behind her army of illusions, invisible to her foe's eyes. With a quick mental command, she used one of them to address him. "A brave effort, Ryu," the image said. "But this must end." Even as she spoke, they began to close in on him.

Ryu watched them approach, his eyes hard as stone. Step by step, the circle around him grew smaller and smaller. But even as it did so, a slight breath of wind began to whisper through the dojo, swirling around the combatants.

"Please give up," another illusion said, sadly. "I have no wish to cause you more suffering."

The young man said nothing. His attackers were close; the final clash would come at any second. And still the images continued to speak. "You know you cannot win," one told him. "You're barely standing as it is." But if Ryu heard the words, he gave no sign.

There was silence for a long moment. The illusions were all just outside of striking distance now, waiting only for the command to finish their prey. At last, Rose sighed. "As you wish," she said. "I'm sorry."

With that, the assembled images charged toward the boy, each and every one of them attacking with lethal intent. Gritting his teeth, Ryu dropped into a twisted crouch, his whole body tense and straining.

Without warning, the air pressure of the entire room dropped sharply. Several yards away, the real Rose let out an involuntary cry as she felt her ears pop from the huge pressure differential.

For a fatal moment she hesitated, not understanding. But then, in a burst of horror, she realized the nature of the technique her foe was using. Too late, she turned and tried to run.

With a mighty leap, the boy shot straight up into the air, one leg outstretched, his face a mask of fierce determination. As he flew, he let out one defiant cry.

"_Shinkuu Tatsumakisenpuukyaku!_"

In the space of an instant, the boy became the center of a massive vacuum, sucking all the air in the room into itself with hurricane force. The wind screamed madly around the boy's frame, its howling currents and eddies dancing to his command. It held him aloft, spinning him around until his outstretched leg was nothing but a blur, delivering countless devastating kicks every instant.

The attacking images never had a chance. They were torn apart in the blink of an eye, their forms vanishing into nothingness. Nor was their mistress far behind them.

Desperately, Rose tried to escape the devouring vortex that surrounded her foe. Fighting against the air currents, she managed to take a step, then two steps, then three—only to feel herself flying backward as her high-heeled shoes lost their grip on the floor. She only had time for a short cry, before she was sucked into the heart of the Shinkuu Tatsumakisenpuukyaku.

It was impossible to distinguish one blow from another. Ryu's leg battered her at an unbelievable rate, even as the winds hurled her crazily around him. It became a continuous blur of pain and disorientation, until at last she felt herself hit the floor, the winds dissipating.

Weakly, she tried to roll back to her feet. They were both injured now, both exhausted, and the winner would likely be the one who could recover the fastest. She could feel that her left arm was probably broken, and she could feel blood dripping down her face, but she managed to right herself, and turn to face her opponent.

Ryu was not in much better shape than she was. Executing the prolonged technique had obviously taken a great deal out of his already drained body. He had gone down on one knee, gasping for breath. Rose stumbled toward him, lunging in a punch that caught him across the face.

He reeled, but did not fall, instead responding with an uppercut that plowed into Rose's stomach. With a gasp she doubled over, then painfully straightened herself enough to bring her arm down in an elbow strike onto Ryu's collarbone. Then she swung the arm sideways, into a backhand that nearly sent him to the floor.

She tried to press her advantage with another strike, but Ryu—still kneeling—managed to raise his arm in a block just in time. No sooner had he parried the blow, than he latched onto her wrist with his hand, holding it in place. Rose tried to yank it free, and when her attempt failed, she swung with her other hand.

Ryu parried this one too, grabbing her wrist with his other hand. She was now locked in place, both her arms captured. She attacked with her legs, planting a kick into Ryu's ribcage, earning a pained gasp from him. But his grip did not loosen, and pushing off his uninjured leg, he leaped toward his attacker and slammed his forehead into her face in a head butt.

Stars exploded in Rose's vision, and she staggered. Before she could regain her senses, he did it again. And again. By the third time, she was so disoriented that she could hardly think coherently. He released her hands, and she stumbled backward, not stopping until she hit one of the dojo walls and sagged against it.

Desperately, she tried to pull herself together. She could still win this, she told herself. If she could just collect herself, regain the initiative, bring the battle back to fighting on her own terms...

A low sizzling noise interrupted her thoughts. At the same time, she felt a terrifyingly familiar force growing behind her. _No..._ she pleaded, a cold knot of fear forming in her stomach. _No, not this!_

She turned to see Ryu, down on one knee again, his head bowed, his body swaying as though he would collapse at any moment. And yet, between the palms of his hands, a blood-red ki projectile was forming.

Then the boy raised his head to look at her, and she saw that his eyes were glowing with the same dark energy. His features were twisted with rage and malice, unrecognizable as those of the kind young man who had offered her the use of his home.

Dread filled her at the sight. She tried to gather her strength to move, to dodge, to counter, to do _anything_. But there was no time. The ki blast continued to grow brighter and brighter, its crackling energy shooting out in all directions, flooding the dojo with a hellish radiance.

And then, with a wordless roar, he hurled it at her.

* * *

"Yes. Yes, I see. Thank you very much for your time, sir."

Chun-li set the phone down on the cradle, allowing herself a brief yawn before making a check mark on the list of phone numbers she had on her desk. She and Inspector Takahashi had divided up a list of all the hospitals, doctor's offices, and other places offering medical care in the area, and were working through them together.

It was, she admitted, probably a slim chance. But if they could find evidence of their hypothetical second combatant—someone who had been on the island at the time of its destruction—then it would be well worth it. There had been no likely candidates yet, but Chun-li was not discouraged. She was simply glad of something to do, a trail to follow, however faint.

_Still, it is getting pretty late,_ she thought. _Just one more call, and then I really ought to get some sleep._

She had, of course, thought that about the last three calls.

She reached to pick the phone back up, but then stopped halfway. She could hear limping footsteps approaching at a rapid pace, and could sense Takahashi's distinctive presence. Curious, she waited for him to arrive.

A few seconds later, the door to her office opened. Takahashi stood outside it, his cane held in one hand, some papers in the other, and an expression on his face that was somewhere between excited and solemn. "Chun-li, you have to see this," he said without preamble, offering the papers to her as he panted a little for breath.

Gracefully, Chun-li rose from her chair and made her way around her desk, reaching out her hand to accept the documents. "Sure. What is it?"

"A fax, from one of the local hospitals," replied the old policeman. "Of a treatment report for one of their patients."

Chun-li felt her heart begin to beat a little faster. Had they found what they were looking for? She took the papers from Takahashi and glanced down at them, scanning their contents. Almost immediately she looked up, raising an eyebrow. "It doesn't exactly fit the profile we were looking for..."

"I know, I know..." Takahashi waved his hand impatiently. "Just keep reading."

Once again, Chun-li looked down at the papers, her gaze moving quickly across the lines of text. Halfway down the first page, her eyes abruptly widened. She began to read more urgently, and once she had finished the last page she looked up at the policeman urgently. "We need to show this to Rose."

Takahashi nodded. "Do you think she can help?"

"I don't know, but we have to find out. This could be the break we've been looking for. If we can—"

But whatever Chun-li had been about to say, it was cut off as a sudden scream split the air.

Both police officers stiffened at the sound, all color draining from their faces. It had sounded as though the scream had come from...

The noise had not yet faded from their ears before Chun-li was moving. She shot past Takahashi in a blur of motion, rounding the corner into the hallway and sprinting with every ounce of speed she possessed for the jail cells.

She was barely halfway there when the entire police station was rocked by what felt like an explosion. Chun-li stumbled in her step, then regained her balance, continuing her all-out run.

Soon she reached the door to the cell block. She did not slow her pace, only lowered her shoulder and plowed through the door, dashing into the room and skidding to a stop at the scene that met her eyes.

Rose lay sprawled out on the floor, her breathing shallow, her eyes open but staring off at nothing. Further back, the entire rear wall of the cell block had been blown out, leaving only broken rubble where it had been, and a clear path to the dark city streets that lay beyond it.

There was no sign of their prisoner.


	14. Seeking Hope

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Street Fighter in any way, shape or form. It and all associated characters, trademarks, etc. are owned by Capcom. I'm just telling some stories about them.

* * *

Chapter Fourteen: Seeking Hope

Thailand, March 14

Bison sat alone in his darkened command center, his head bowed, deep in thought. That had been close. Too close.

He had never imagined that Rose would be willing to resort to murder in order to thwart his plans, and so he had been ill-prepared when it had happened. Fortunately, however, he had detected her attack, and was able to make one desperate attempt at a counter.

It had been a terrible risk. Projection of his consciousness over so great a distance, battering his way through all of Rose's countless defences to manifest his astral form into a hostile mindscape—it was an unheard-of feat. He had been forced to push the Psycho Drive to its most dangerous limits to accomplish it, chanelling all the energy directly into himself.

It had been a near thing. For a few moments, even he had been afraid that the failsafes would be unable to bring the Drive's power back under control. But they had. The Drive had been successfully spun down, and technicians were even now working to repair what minor damage had resulted from the near-overload.

In spite of himself, he smiled. _Are you growing desperate, Rose?_ he thought. _I can feel that you are. Already you have done things you would never have dreamed of years ago. That, in itself, is a victory for me. And now that you have seen this latest demonstration of how great my power truly is..._

He licked his lips, remembering her expression as he had appeared before her, in a place he never should have been able to penetrate.

Fear was such a glorious thing.

* * *

Japan, March 14

The office door burst open with surprising force, and Chun-li stalked through, anger burning in her eyes. The two standing occupants of the room—Inspector Takahashi and a tall, nervous-looking doctor—turned to look at her. The eyebrows of the former were raised, but she ignored the question implicit in his glance. Instead, she addressed the doctor. "How is she?"

The doctor glanced down at the still form of Rose, who lay sprawled out on a couch in front of him. "I.. can't say for certain," he said. "There are no visible signs of any injury or trauma, but she's unconscious, and displaying some very odd pupil dilation..."

Chun-li listened to the doctor's explanation, her arms crossed. When she finished, her next question was immediate. "Can you bring her around?"

The doctor blinked. "Um... Well, I suppose I could administer a general stimulant. Ideally I'd prefer not to, as I don't know exactly what her condition is, but—"

"Do it." The words were sharp with command. Inspector Takahashi opened his mouth, as though to speak, but then after a moment simply closed it again.

After a few moments of digging through the medical supplies that he had brought from the ambulance into the police station, followed by a few more of preparation, the doctor was ready. In his hand he held a hypodermic needle, which he proceeded to insert into Rose's arm. "This should do the trick, if my appraisal of her symptoms is correct," he told them.

No one said anything in reply. All of their eyes were fastened on Rose. The purple-haired woman did not move at first, but then, slowly, began to stir. After a few minutes, she opened her eyes groggily and looked around. "Inspector?" she asked, her voice cracking, her throat obviously dry. "What—?"

And then she sat bolt upright, her eyes going wide as memory flooded back to her. "The prisoner!" she rasped. "Is he—?"

"Gone." Chun-li's face betrayed no emotion. "Disappeared into the night."

Rose slumped back down, the words seeming to drain her sudden burst of strength. An expression of despair was etched onto her features. After a long, drawn-out silence, she spoke. "This is a catastrophe."

"Damn straight it is," Chun-li snapped. "I want you to tell me what happened in there, Rose. Just how, exactly, did he get free?"

Rose hesitated, her mouth open as though to speak, but no sound came out and her face twisted into a pained frown. "It... It was... Bison," she said at last, not meeting the policewoman's gaze. "He managed to appear in my dreamworld momentarily, and reveal its nature to Ryu. Ryu and I... fought then. He managed to defeat me and escape."

"I see."

There was something in Chun-li's voice that caused Rose to glance up at her. "Inspector?" she asked, worriedly.

For several seconds Chun-li only regarded her, but when she did speak it was without hesitation. "You're lying."

The purple-haired woman blanched, tried to turn away—but Chun-li was faster. Her hand shot down, grabbing Rose by the jaw and wrenching her head back around to face her. "Explain this to me," she demanded, eyes flashing with anger. "If Ryu was the one who attacked you unprovoked, then why did he run away from me? And for that matter, why was I only able to sense all the ki flying around _after_ he took you down?" Her eyes narrowed. "Almost as though someone had shielded that room against my perceptions."

"I... don't..." There was a stricken expression on the older woman's face.

"_What did you do to him, Rose?_"

Rose crumbled. Tearing herself from Chun-li's grasp, she buried her head in her hands, her breathing ragged, unsteady. When she spoke, it was barely above a whisper. "It was the only way. The only safe decision to make."

Chun-li closed her eyes in resignation, her suspicions now confirmed. Turning her back on Rose, she walked over to the desk in the center of the room, leaning her palms onto it for support as the full weight of the situation they were in settled on her. Moment after moment of strained silence ticked by.

Without warning, Chun-li slammed her fist down on the desk, spitting out a vicious Chinese curse as she did so. "So let me get this straight, to make sure I'm not missing anything," she snarled, turning back to face Rose. "We have a man who could kill everyone in this city, a man who Bison fully intends to use for some terrible purpose, and not only has he left our custody, not only have we lost all trace of him, but he now probably believes that we're trying to kill him!"

Rose said nothing, only nodded dumbly. Chun-li began to swear in Chinese again, but softer this time, under her breath. And soon even that quieted into stillness, until she asked her next question. "How long will it take you to recover?"

Rose looked up, blinking. "I... should be physically recovered within a day or two. Recovering my full strength will likely take a few days beyond that."

Chun-li grunted. "I'll factor that into my plans, then." With that, she turned and walked toward the office door.

"What? You mean..." Rose sounded as though she couldn't believe what she was hearing. "You're... still willing to work with me?"

The policewoman paused, glancing back over her shoulder, her face emotionless once more. "I've worked with a lot of criminals hunting Bison," she told the older woman coldly. "Snitches that sold out their friends to us for our money, thugs that cut a plea bargain to avoid prosecution, even some police forces that weren't any better than criminals themselves. You learn early in this line of work to pick your battles."

She turned away. "In this case... I still need you. All this changes is that now I know I can't trust you."

And with that she exited the room.

* * *

The building was old, and ugly. A misshapen thing of brick and mortar, the ancient apartment complex was a run-down place to live in a run-down part of town, largely abandoned and in bad repair. But it was tall, and that meant its roof was a place of relative safety from prying eyes.

Ryu sat there, alone on the rooftop, not many paces from the rusted fire escape that he had climbed up. His arms were resting limply on his knees, as his eyes stared off into the distance, his tortured mind trying to make sense of what had happened to him over the past day.

He had gone to meet Sagat—that much, at least, he could remember. But he had been ambushed. Powerful fighters, sent by... what was the name Sagat had told him? Bison. A crime lord. But why had a crime lord sent his servants to attack him? The young man rubbed his head wearily, but no answers were forthcoming. And it was after that point his memories began to get... complicated.

He could remember only blurred, dreamlike glimpses, but they were enough to chill his blood. Crushing things with fists and feet. Hurling devastating bolts of ki. The sound of screaming. The scent of blood.

He knew what it meant. He had given in to the Satsui no Hado once again.

A small sob broke in his throat. A part of him was frantic, wanting to try and somehow find out details of what had happened. But at the same time, he knew that there was another part of him, one that was very, very afraid to hear the answer to that question.

_Where I met Sagat... that was a warehouse, wasn't it?_ the boy thought desperately. _Yes! Yes, I remember. It was a warehouse. An old warehouse. There... there wouldn't have been... too many people around a place like that... would there?_

_Would there?_

The young man's hands clutched at his face as he scoured his murky memories over and over again, searching them for any hints of what he had done, but to no avail. He tried and tried, but eventually was forced to give up. Remorse could wait for later; right now, there were decisions that needed to be made.

_After I used... it... I ended up in Master's dojo somehow,_ he thought. _Ken was there too. But that wasn't real, was it? I remember that. It wasn't real. And then I fought someone there. A woman. She was trying to kill me. And then I woke up in the police station._

The significance of the police station was not lost on Ryu. _I was being held by the police. That woman who attacked me in the dreamworld... she must have been one of them, a psychic that they used to capture me. And then to try and kill me. That means..._ He paused, but then bit his lip and made the obvious deduction. _That means that the authorities have marked me for death._

The thought frightened him, but not so much as the question that followed it. _And what if that's the right decision?_

He looked down at his trembling hands. It was a question he had asked of himself more than once, in the days after he had made himself into the monster he had become. Was he too dangerous to be left alive?

"I thought I could control it..." he whispered softly. "I told myself I could control it... I didn't want to die..."

_But how many people are dead now, because I was wrong?_

Ryu clenched his eyes shut, but could not escape the horrible question. It haunted him, tearing relentlessly at his conscience. He had no answer.

And behind the question there was another thought, a seductive whisper, not as strong now as it had been earlier that day, but deadly all the same. _**You don't have to feel this way, you know. Just give in. Let yourself go. You can end all the guilt and the pain right now. Just accept what you are, and you'll be free... Accept the darkness and no one will be able to stand against you...**_

_No!_ With an effort of the will, he shoved those thoughts to the back of his mind, and stood shakily to his feet. No, he would not give into his hellish desires again.

But then what _would_ he do?

For a long, long time he simply stood there, paralyzed. His thoughts and emotions were warring within him, trying to find some way out of the trap he was in. But ultimately he kept coming back to the same place—a realization he did not want to accept, but one that was inescapable.

_I'm out of choices_, he thought numbly. _The police will be hunting me now, as well as the crime lord that Sagat warned me of. Sooner or later, one of them will find me. Sooner or later, I'll be attacked again, and when that happens..._

He clenched his jaw, his hands tightening into fists. _No. No, there's only one honorable thing left to do. I... have to turn myself into the police. And if they feel I need to be destroyed..._ he swallowed. _Well, then that's the way it is._

The decision brought a sinking emptiness to his stomach. And yet, somehow, he felt slightly lighter as well. Unexpectedly, he found his thoughts turning to memories of Master Gouken, memories that were themselves equal parts solace and pain.

_I know I've made a mockery of everything you tried to teach me, master,_ Ryu thought. _I'm so sorry. I just hope that, in this last thing, at least, I can make you proud._ With that, he made his way over to the edge of the building, descended the fire escape to the streets below, and began to walk slowly in the direction of the police station.

But then he hesitated, glancing over his shoulder toward the northern section of the city. Then, after a few moments of consideration he turned, changing his course.

Yes, he would turn himself in. And yes, that would likely be the end of him. But there was something he needed to do first. Someone that he needed to see once more.

Even if it was only to say goodbye.

* * *

As she strode into the briefing room, Chun-li banished all thoughts of Rose's betrayal from her mind. This was not the time or the place to dwell on such recriminations; all that mattered now was salvaging the situation. Somehow.

"Good evening, gentlemen. Thank you for coming at such a late hour." Scores of faces looked up as she spoke. The large room was packed with policemen—the entire compliment of the station had been assembled for this emergency. Chun-li wasted no time, but rather walked to the front of the room and turned to face the assembled group.

"Your commanding officer should have given you all the relevant details regarding this situation," she said, fixing one officer after another with her gaze. "So I won't waste time recapping everything. There's only one thing I want to stress for all of you. Your task is to search the city for the man who escaped the police station less than an hour ago. That is your task, and that is your _only_ task."

"You will do _nothing_ beyond observing his location—from the greatest distance possible—and reporting it back to base. You are not to address him. You are not to approach him. And under _no circumstances whatsoever_ are you to take any action that could in any way be interpreted as hostile to him. Is that understood?"

A chorus of assents echoed around the room. Satisfied that her point had been driven home, Chun-li continued. "If _he_ approaches _you_, speak to him carefully and calmly. It is very likely that he believes that we—the police—intend to murder him, and the first thing you should do is assure him that the attempt on his life was made by a rogue element. The ultimate goal is to bring him back—peacefully—into police protection. Any questions?"

Shaking heads signified that there were none. "Then let's get to work. Your unit commanders will have the details of the areas you're each assigned to cover. Good luck."

The officers began to disperse. Chun-li watched them go, then turned to see Inspector Takahashi approaching her.

"So that's it, then?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "It comes down to whether Bison or Interpol can find this semi-psychotic superhuman first?"

"More or less," agreed Chun-li. "And don't forget the matter of handling him once we do find him. I'd wager any amount of money that Bison already has a plan for subduing Ryu, whereas we..." She sighed. "We just have to hope that we can get him to trust us, even after one of us tried to kill him."

"Not a very promising picture."

"Let's just concentrate on finding him first. The officers will cover the city, although I honestly don't know how effective they'll be against someone like him if he doesn't want to be found."

"And you? What will you be doing while all this is going on?"

Chun-li gave him a small smile. "Playing a hunch."

* * *

Ryu peered around the corner, flattening himself against the wall of the building as the police car drove down the adjoining street. To him, it seemed an eternity before it finally disappeared from view. The young man let out a breath of relief, and then with one last check to make sure the coast was still clear, he darted across the intersection.

His progress toward his destination had been unhindered at first—until the policemen had begun to flood the streets. Soon he had been reduced to creeping slowly from shadow to shadow, always looking over his shoulder, trying to avoid detection.

It had taken a long time. But his patience had born fruit; he was almost there.

A few more blocks, and he could see the tall white building, the sight causing a mixture of relief and apprehension. Another block after that, and he could see the large sign on the building's front, proclaiming it to be one of the city's hospitals.

His pace increased, and soon he was standing at the structure's base. He reached out with his senses, confirming that the person he had come to visit had not been moved since the last time he had been here. Satisfied, he made his way along the perimeter of the building until he reached a specific point. Looking upward, he crouched into a coiled, tense posture, gathering his ki.

Then he exploded into a dizzying leap, shooting up almost three stories. At the apex of his jump he raised his hands, grabbing the windowsill above him firmly and pulling himself up onto it. Most people would have found the narrow ledge impossible to hold their balance on, but Ryu showed no signs of any difficulty. All his attention was focused inside the room.

Details were not easy to make out; everything inside was dark, except for the pale moonlight shining through the window. There appeared to be only one occupant—a small figure, lying on a hospital bed. Ryu leaned in closer, trying to get a better look.

It was then that he noticed something about the window: it had been left open. Not much, less than an inch—as though someone had meant to close it but had not quite pushed hard enough. Ryu frowned, considering this for a moment, running his fingers along the opening as he did so.

Then, making up his mind, the young man reached down and gently eased the window open, sliding it up enough that he could slip through into the darkened room beyond. He made his way silently over to the bed, looking down with a heavy heart at its unmoving occupant.

She was a girl in her middle teens, her young face framed by short-cropped brown hair. She was a little on the scrawny side, an effect that was accentuated by the slightly-too-big hospital gown she had been dressed in. Her right arm was in a cast, apparently broken. Around her wrist was a patient ID band bearing the name "S. Kasugano."

Ryu bent over her still form, reaching out with his hand, his fingers gently resting on her forehead. He closed his eyes, searching for any signs of change in her condition. He found none. She was still unconscious—as she had been for over two weeks now.

A strangled noise that was almost a sob passed between his lips. He retracted his hand, and for a while he simply stood there, looking down at the girl.

Then he spoke, his voice quiet. "How did you know I would come here?"

There was a small rustle in the darkness behind him, and Chun-li stepped out into the narrow band of moonlight filtering in from the window. "I didn't," she answered. "Not for certain. Call it a hunch."

"Not bad for a hunch. Are you a psychic, like the other woman?"

"No, just a cop," came the wry reply. "We pulled the girl's treatment report—she was admitted on the same day you destroyed the island, brought in by someone matching your description who vanished soon afterward. And some of her injuries—the physical ones, at least—were consistent with being hit by flying rocks."

"The clincher, though, was the addendum to the report. Almost a week after the girl had been admitted, a nurse caught a brief glimpse of a prowler outside the window, looking in at the patient. Her claim wasn't taken very seriously, of course. After all, it was a third-floor window."

The young man sighed. "I had to check on her. To see if she had recovered."

"That's what I figured. That's why I figured you just might be back." Behind him, she began to walk a little closer. "Although I guess I need more practice at masking my ki."

Ryu gave a little shrug. "You had me fooled at first. It was only when I saw the open window that I started to get suspicious." He did not turn to face her as he spoke, keeping his eyes fixed on the young patient. "But once I suspected... well, you do have a very... distinctive presence. I recognized it from the police station."

"The police station. Right." Distaste filled her words. "Listen. The attempt on your life—that was _not_ sanctioned by us. The one who did it is—"

He waved his hand, cutting her off. "It doesn't matter," he told her. "Even if it was official. I could... understand why."

"Well, it _wasn't_ official." Chun-li walked around Ryu as she spoke, until she stood on the opposite side of the hospital bed from him. "We know you're not doing this intentionally. We know that you're trying to fight this... power inside you. You don't have to do it alone. Let us help you."

The young man looked up at her. She met his gaze evenly, no trace of fear in her eyes. He could see her strength, both in body and in spirit. He could see the fluid grace of her stance even in the way she stood there, watching him. She was truly a martial _artist_, the beauty and precision of her art etched into her very soul.

_**...worthy opponent...**_

Ryu tore his gaze back down to look at the girl in the hospital bed, clenching his trembling hands into fists. "You... may be making a mistake," he rasped, his throat dry.

There was a long, pained silence. Ryu refused to look at the policewoman, but could feel her eyes, her senses on him all the same. Piercing him. Reading him. Evaluating him.

At last, she responded. "Maybe," she acknowledged. "But I don't think I am."

The words warmed Ryu, just a little. They were not empty assurances or false encouragements. She had taken his measure as best she could, and she honestly believed what she had said. "Thank you," he said, still not looking at her. "But it isn't that simple. I don't know _how_ to fight this. The power I used... the Satsui no Hado... even I don't truly understand it."

"But you can use it."

Ryu nodded. "Only instinctively. My fighting style was originally designed to draw power from the Satsui no Hado, but my master... altered it when he taught it to me." His voice dropped to an almost-whisper. "But I could always see the changes he had made, even as I was learning them. Like a story, with words erased and written in a different handwriting. I could tell there was something more there, something underneath. And the more I learned, the more I could guess about what it was."

"And then... on the island..." His voice trailed off, the thought left incomplete.

The policewoman waited, until eventually the young man spoke again desperation in his voice. "Now the urges are increasing. I didn't want to admit it to myself, but they are. Every day, a little bit worse. I don't know how much longer I can last against them... before I give in for good."

Chun-li digested this. "What if you found help? Someone who _does_ know how to fight this thing."

Ryu shook his head. "Ansatsuken was always only a secret art," he said. "I wouldn't even know where to begin looking. I don't know if there is even anyone left."

There was a long pause. When Chun-li spoke, it was in a strange, hushed whisper. "What did you say the name of your art was?" she asked, carefully.

Ryu glanced back up at her, puzzled. "Ansatsuken."

A host of conflicting emotions passed across Chun-li's face in an instant. Astonishment the most prominent of them, but there were others that Ryu could not place.

At last she spoke, softly. "I know where one is."

"What?" demanded Ryu, his eyes widening with shock. "An Ansatsuken master?"

She nodded, no longer looking at him, but rather away into the distance, at something only she could see. "Yes," was her reply. "I trained under him, once."

Ryu simply stood there, stunned, sudden hope seizing him. If there really was someone out there, someone who could teach him how to control what he had let loose in himself...

"Where is he?" he asked, desperation in his voice. "How soon can I meet him?"

"I'll... take you to him myself," Chun-li offered, snapping herself out of her trance. "But I'll need to arrange for transportation. Come back with me to the station. We can protect you there."

Ryu only had to consider it for a moment. "Thank you," he said simply.

Chun-li released a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. "Good," she said. "Come on, let's go. We can talk more once we get there; it's more secure." She turned and began to walk for the room's exit.

The young fighter followed her, then suddenly stopped. "Wait..."

Chun-li turned, worry crossing her features. "What is it?"

"I... will return to police custody," Ryu said. "On my honor. But..." he hesitated, indecision written across his features, as though he were struggling with himself. "There's... something I want to bring with me. Something I have a feeling I'll need, one way or another. I'll return after I go get it."

The policewoman opened her mouth to protest. But before she could say anything Ryu had turned and, with a running leap, vanished out the still-open window.

* * *

Ryu was as good as his word. Less than an hour later, he appeared on the doorstep of the police station he had broken out of and surrendered himself.

Under his arm he held a parcel, wrapped with brown paper.


	15. Sanctuary

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Street Fighter in any way, shape or form. It and all associated characters, trademarks, etc. are owned by Capcom. I'm just telling some stories about them.

* * *

Chapter Fifteen: Sanctuary

Japan, March 15

Taking a quick breath to prepare herself, Chun-li stepped through the hatchway and into the passenger compartment of the small plane. A quick glance around confirmed that no one else was there—save for the young man who was at the moment gazing blankly out one of the windows.

She made her way down the narrow aisle, watching him all the while. He was much more presentable than he had been the previous night; they had provided him with a shower, and had scrounged together some clean clothes for him as well. He now wore a nondescript pair of slacks and a business shirt.

The mysterious brown parcel was still under his arm—he hadn't volunteered what was inside it, and no one had been inclined to press the issue. Held in his right hand, however, was something she hadn't seen. A long strip of red cloth. He seemed to be clutching it with little short of a deathgrip.

Drawing closer, she lowered herself down into the seat next to his. He did not visibly react. For a few, long moments, there was only strained silence. _A bit more than the normal awkwardness between seatmates,_ reflected the policewoman wryly. _Just how does one make conversation with a mentally unstable force of nature?_

And yet she was determined to make inroads in dealing with him. It might make all the difference in the days to come. If there was anything she could do to help him hang onto his sanity, she wanted to give whatever aid she could.

"That's a nice headband..." she remarked at last.

Ryu glanced over to her, as though noticing her for the first time, then back to the window. "It was a gift," he said, his voice thick with some unidentifiable emotion. "From a friend."

"Mmm." Realizing she was on sensitive ground, she backed off. Silence fell again.

After almost a minute, Ryu spoke. "Will your friend be joining us?" he asked. "The psychic?"

"No." Chun-li shook her head. "She's still recovering from the... unpleasantness... last night. We felt it best that she remain here under observation for a while yet. Besides, we have some concerns that the Doll agents we captured are still linked to Bison somehow. While she recuperates, she'll be trying to sever that connection without killing them in the process."

All of which was true. However, the main reason Rose was not on this flight was much simpler. _There's no way I'm going to put someone with barely-controlled homicidal tendencies anywhere near someone who once tried to kill him,_ Chun-li thought. _Maybe after I've talked with Master Gen and I get his take on the situation I'll have her brought over. But for now I'm going to play it safe._

If Ryu guessed her unspoken motivations he gave no sign. "I see," was all he said, and then lapsed back into silence.

After a while, he spoke again. "Inspector..."

"Please, call me Chun-li."

He nodded. "Chun-li. I..." He hesitated for a moment. "I want to thank you for what you're doing. Helping me. I am grateful, even though it... might not be obvious, for various reasons."

_For example, the difficulty you seem to have in looking directly at anyone for more than a few seconds. Especially me._ Chun-li nodded. "I understand."

They lapsed back into silence once more. After a fruitless ten minutes of thought on what else could be said, Chun-li gave up. With a sigh, she leaned back into her chair. _It's going to be a long flight,_ she thought. _Still, it'll feel good to be home again._

* * *

China, March 15

The dark, unmarked car pulled to a stop just outside the main gate to the house. Chun-li and Ryu exited, the latter glancing anxiously around, the former letting out a breath of relief.

Their trip through the Shanghai streets had been harrowing. The heavy crowds had affected Ryu badly, to the point where Chun-li had seriously considered abandoning the car and using a helicopter to bring the young man in. But such a noticeable mode of transport would have compromised their attempts at secrecy, and they needed to keep their presence hidden from Bison for as long as possible.

And so Ryu had weathered it, trembling, his eyes fixed firmly on the floor of the car. Fortunately, once they had left the city proper he had relaxed somewhat, even to the point of looking out the window once or twice. Now, at last, they had reached their destination.

Few details of the place could be seen from the outside, as the grounds were completely enclosed by a large red wall. There was only one building rising up into sight behind it—a long, ornate structure, done in the old Chinese style. Apart from the building, the tops of a few trees could also be seen inside.

Chun-li moved toward the single gate in the wall, Ryu following a few steps behind her. "When we meet him, let me do the talking," she instructed Ryu as they walked. "He doesn't know we're coming, so I'll have to explain the situation."

"Will he be willing to help?"

"I hope so." Chun-li's mouth twisted into a grimace. "I gave up trying to figure out how his mind works a long time ago, but if your story amuses him he may consider it."

Ryu frowned, noting the slight bitterness in her tone, but said nothing as the two of them arrived at the gate. Chun-li took a deep breath, raised her hand, and gave it three sharp raps, trying to ignore the dull weight she felt pulling at her heart.

There was a long silence, and then two pairs of pattering footsteps could be heard racing up behind the gate. There was the sound of a bar being removed, and then the gate swung open to reveal two young children standing there. They appeared to be around ten years old, and when they saw Chun-li, their faces lit up with identical smiles.

And their smiles were not the only thing identical about them. The pair were exactly the same height, their faces mirror images of each other. The only feature that kept them from being indistinguishable was their hair; the boy to Chun-li's left wore his hair back in a pigtail, while the other wore his in an odd angular style that jutted up in front. Both were clad in simple white training uniforms.

"Hey, Chun-li!" The gleeful shout came from the boy on the left, who immediately stepped through the gateway toward her. "You're back!"

Chun-li smiled affectionately at the youngster. "It's good to see you again, Yun. How're you and your brother doing?"

"Oh, we're doing fine," replied Yun. "The training here keeps us busy and all. But I want to hear what you've been doing! I bet you've had all kinds of wild stuff happen going after that Bison guy, right?"

_Now there's an understatement,_ thought Chun-li. But all she said aloud was: "There'll be time for stories later. Right now, I need to talk to the Master. It's urgent."

Yun's mood deflated a little at her words. "Oh. Yeah. He's in the training hall, meditating." The boy gestured back through the gateway.

"Thanks." With that, she stepped around Yun, and began to make her way toward the large building that stood at the center of the compound.

"Chun-li..." The sound of her name made her turn around. It was the other twin who had spoken.

"Yes, Yang?" she asked.

The boy hung his head a little. "He's... still not happy about the choice you made."

The weight that had been pulling on Chun-li's heart increased just a little bit, although her expression did not change. "I'm sorry to hear that," she said simply. "Thanks for the warning." Then she turned and continued on her way.

After all, it wasn't as though she had expected any different.

She walked with a firm stride, one that betrayed nothing but confidence. She did not look around; even from her brief glance on entering she knew that nothing had changed about the place. Behind her followed Ryu, who unlike her was looking furtively from side to side, trying to get a feel for the territory he was heading into.

Apart from the main building, the wall enclosed a couple smaller ones which stood off to one side, but otherwise the rest of the space had the appearance of a large garden. The empty places were filled with trees, shrubs and vines, each of their places chosen with obvious artistry and care. A small brook ran through the middle of the compound, spanned by a modest wooden bridge. The gurgle of running water carried surprisingly well in the otherwise still air.

The two of them made their way across the grounds toward the central building, heading for a short flight of steps which led up to an open doorway. But even as they approached it, someone emerged from the inside, stepping out onto the top of the stairs and looking down at the pair.

He was a tall, gaunt figure, with skin weathered and creased by age. He had a long, white beard, which he stroked thoughtfully as he examined his visitors. He was clad in a dark purple robe with a white trim. He spoke not a word, but his hawk-like eyes drilled into them with an intensity that Chun-li remembered all too well.

Giving the man a deep bow, Chun-li spoke. "Hello, Master Gen," she said quietly, using Japanese for Ryu's benefit.

"So. My errant pupil returns at last," replied Gen, in the same language. "Because you have realized the folly of your course, perhaps? But of course you have not. Your companion's aura speaks plainly of the reason you have sought me out after all this time."

"I didn't come here to restart old arguments," was Chun-li's tired response. "I came because we need help, and you're the only one who can provide it. I know we've had our differences, but... if my father's friendship still holds any weight with you, then allow me to ask you this favor."

Gen did not reply, but he did begin to descend the stairs. Upon reaching the bottom, he moved toward the pair, walking past Chun-li until he stood directly in front of Ryu, looking the young man straight in the eye.

Ryu looked back, his eyebrows furrowing slightly as the two of them matched gazes. After several tense seconds of silence, Gen spoke. "You're Gouken's pup, aren't you?"

The young man's eyes widened a little in surprise. "You knew my master?"

Gen shook his head. "By reputation only. It was a noble effort on his part, attempting to modify Ansatsuken so that it no longer drew on the Satsui no Hado." Then the old man looked Ryu up and down. "Although it seems that effort has become rather a failure at this point."

Chun-li saw Ryu's jaw muscles tighten at the words, but he said nothing, and Gen continued. "And so you have come to me, to learn the secret knowledge of your art. Well. You clearly have potential, boy. Whether you have it in you to truly master the Satsui no Hado I can't say yet, but you do have potential. This promises to be... rewarding... no matter how things turn out." There was a strange glitter in Gen's eyes as he spoke, one that Chun-li could not quite identify.

Then, without warning, he raised his voice sharply. "Yun! Yang!"

Immediately, the two brothers were running up to answer his command. "Yes, Master?" Yun said. "What do you want?"

"Prepare some food for our guests," was Gen's reply. "And bring it to us in the training hall. We have a great deal to discuss."

* * *

Thailand, March 15

The shrill beeping of an alarm cut through the muted background noise of Shadowlaw command center. The Killer Bee's head snapped up from the monitor she had been looking at. The noise signaled a high-level alert, one demanding her immediate attention.

Walking across the room, she looked at the terminal which was making the sound. She immediately recognized it as the main status monitor for the other Dolls. That in itself was unexpected. The Dolls had been incapacitated the day before. What further could happen to them that was grounds for such a high level alert?

A glance at their physical readouts showed nothing amiss—in fact, their vitals were significantly improved from even a few hours ago. But if not that...

Then Cammy saw the brainwave readouts, and the mysterious alert was no longer a mystery. The graphs for each of the Dolls had gone completely wild, shooting up and down. But, though the motion was erratic, it was following a very discernible trend.

Someone was trying to sever the Dolls' connection to the Psycho Drive.

Without hesitation, Cammy headed back across the room toward the comm station. Her master had to be informed of this. Whoever was doing this would not take long to succeed, and once they had done so, the Dolls would be completely cut off from Shadowlaw surveillance and influence.

Bison would be furious if that occurred. The crime lord was never one to leave his tools in the hands of his enemies. If action was taken quickly, it would be a simple matter to send a brief power spike through their Drive links, far in excess of what their interfaces were capable of withstanding. Burning out every neuron in their brains.

Killing them.

Abruptly, Cammy stopped walking.

She couldn't comprehend why she had done so. The situational analysis was so simple as to be ridiculous. Her master would not want his soldiers falling into the hands of his foes. Informing him of the problem would take nothing more than a brief comm call. There was no question about the course of action to take... No possible source of confusion... None at _all_...

But for the second time in as many days, something deep within her—something beyond Bison's programming—was making itself known. _I... don't want... them to die!_ the voice whispered in her again, louder this time than last. _I don't want them to die!_

Her conditioning fought back immediately, and fought back hard. Wave after wave of pure agony crashed into her, punishing the rebellious thoughts. Her mind felt as though it was tearing itself to pieces. She clutched at her forehead, even as her knees buckled. Unconsciously, she curled her slight frame into a ball on the floor, trying hopelessly to protect herself from the pain.

It was worse than before—far worse. The first time, she had merely been a passive bystander. But now the decision, the battle, lay squarely in her hands. The ingrained commands dominated her, irresistible and absolute. And yet the tiny voice inside would give no ground to them.

Small noises began to escape from her shaking body, barely recognizable as sobs. It would be so easy to simply give in, to obey. But she did not. Instead she lay there, convulsing, for minute after minute, tears streaming down her cheeks. It seemed to go on, and on, and on forever—an endless personal hell.

Until finally, the beeping of the alert steadied into a long, solid whine.

Slowly, tentatively, she lifted her head. A look confirmed what her hearing had told her. Every single status readout for the Dolls had gone completely blank. Shadowlaw no longer had any access to them.

For a long time she simply remained there, on the floor, unable to react. What she had just done was beyond her ability to understand. Her entire being was structured around service to her master—her purpose was nothing but an extension of his will. And yet she had...

She had...

Cammy rose to her feet, and walked over to the nearest communications terminal, keying in the code for her master's quarters. "Lord Bison," she said calmly. "This is Killer Bee."

"What is it?" snapped the voice of the crime lord.

"My lord, beg to report that we have lost contact with the captured Dolls. Their link appears to have been completely destroyed."

Bison swore angrily. "Rose. A greater thorn in my side now than ever before." There was a moment's pause, then he spoke again. "I will deal with her in due course, and the Dolls as well. But if the link is already down, there is little we can do at this point."

"Yes my lord."

"In any event, it will not matter in the end. Continue on with your duties. The only priority now is the completion of the plan. Everything stands or falls on that."

"Yes my lord."

With that, Bison cut the connection, leaving Cammy alone with the terrifying new discovery she had made.

She had disobeyed Bison.

* * *

By the time Yun and Yang arrived with the food, Chun-li had given Gen a full description—from her point of view—of the events that had led them up to the present. Ryu had remained silent throughout the telling, except to answer a few brief questions that Gen had asked him concerning events Chun-li had not witnessed. But not until after the meal had arrived did Gen begin to direct his questions toward Ryu in earnest.

The three of them were seated on floor mats around a low, circular table. Gen was the only one of the three who appeared at ease; Chun-li wore a troubled expression as she picked at the food with her chopsticks, while Ryu did not eat at all, his face tense and withdrawn. By contrast, the old master gave no outward sign that this was any more important than any other meal, eating leisurely and calmly.

"So, boy," he said to Ryu, after Yun and Yang had at last left. "I've now heard how my former student came across you. What I want to hear from you is how you came to be in the state you're in. Leave nothing out."

Ryu lowered his eyes, his hands clenching unconsciously into fists. After a moment, he spoke. "I first called on the Satsui no Hado two years ago, during the Street Fighter tournament. At the time, I didn't even realize what had happened."

"I would have talked to Master Gouken about it. But he was..." Ryu's voice caught slightly, but he continued. "He was dead. Murdered, while I was away at the tournament. Killed by his own brother."

A strange expression, halfway between a smile and a snarl, crossed Gen's face. "The one they call Akuma," he said. "I am... not unfamiliar with him."

Ryu nodded. "I knew him by his given name: Gouki." The young man spat the last word as though it were a curse.

"It was only then, as I stood in front of Master Gouken's grave, listening to a friend of mine who had witnessed the fight, that I finally began to understand what I had done. I knew that Gouki was a practitioner of the Satsui no Hado. And I realized that to win the Street Fighter tournament, I had used the very same dark power that had killed my master."

"Worse, I could still feel the power inside me. Always there, waiting, begging to be used. I had set something loose inside myself, and I had no idea how to control it. I was desperate to learn more... and there was only one source that I knew of."

"And so I began to hunt my master's killer. I followed his trail across continents, tracking down every sighting, following every rumor. I trained with everyone I could along the way, trying to find some way to keep the Satsui no Hado in check. But nothing seemed to work."

"For two years I kept up the chase—until finally, sixteen days ago, I tracked him to a small, uncharted island off the western coast of Japan..."


	16. Rememberance

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Street Fighter in any way, shape or form. It and all associated characters, trademarks, etc. are owned by Capcom. I'm just telling some stories about them.

* * *

Chapter Sixteen: Rememberance

Japan, February 28

Ryu gave the oars another pull, sending the small rowboat that much closer to the island. He paused, taking a moment to check his bearings—and to steady himself. His heart was beating rapidly, and his palms were sweaty on the oar handles. _This is the place,_ he thought to himself. _I know it. He is here._

It was not that he could sense the presence of the man he was searching for. No, nothing that obvious. But all the same, there was no doubt in his mind. Call it a hunch; call it a feeling; call it intuition. His quarry was on that island.

And soon, he would be as well.

He adjusted his course slightly, aiming for the landing he had chosen. As he rowed, he began to wish for something—anything—that would disrupt the unnerving silence. But the lapping of the waves against the boat and the distant cries of seagulls were the only sounds that could be heard. Other than that, he was left alone with his thoughts.

And his thoughts had been particularly dark ones of late. Thoughts of the Street Fighter tournament, and of the power he had touched briefly, instinctively, during the final bout. Thoughts of his master, Gouken, now brutally murdered.

Thoughts of Gouki.

Through it all, he continued to pull at the oars, continued to draw closer and closer to his destination. Soon, the boat's rusty metal prow gave a small _chunk_ as it ran aground. Rising to his feet, the young fighter got out and took hold of the boat, dragging it up onto the small, rocky beach. Then he turned, walked over to the sheer rock face that stood in front of him, and began his ascent.

He made his way slowly up the island's side, grip shifting from handhold to handhold. At last he reached the top, standing to look out across the small yet dense forest that covered the summit.

Even here, in the forest, the eerie silence persisted. No birdsong could be heard, nor the sound of any other animal. Aside from the trees, there were no signs of life anywhere.

Ryu began to walk toward the center of the small glade, his every sense alert. Upon reaching his destination he took one last look around, his eyes searching every shadow. Nothing.

He took a deep breath. "_Gouki!_" he shouted, his voice echoing across the island.

There was no reply. But, even as the sound faded from his ears, he found he could now sense a presence that he had not sensed a moment ago.

He turned. There, a ways off through the trees, stood a figure dressed in a black, sleeveless gi. A rough topknot was tied into his flame-like hair. Around his neck hung a necklace of large beads. His pupil-less eyes glowed with a dull red light.

Ryu's eyes narrowed. "Gouki."

"Ryu." The voice was deep, a low growl that seemed to reverberate in Ryu's very soul. "Why have you come here?"

"For answers."

Gouki began to walk slowly toward the young man. "To which questions?"

Ryu watched as the monstrous figure drew closer to him. "You killed Master Gouken," he said, emotion thickening his voice as he clenched his fists. "Your own brother. _Why?_"

Silence was his only reply. Gouki continued to advance, his glowing eyes fixed on Ryu with fearsome intensity. The young man felt as though they could see straight into him, laying bare every secret he had ever had.

Finally, Gouki spoke. "There is a question underneath that question."

"Just answer, murderer."

Gouki ignored the demand. "Do you ask this because you do not know why I would kill my own brother?" He was right in front of the young man now, glowering down at him. "Or do you ask, perhaps, because you _do_ know why?"

A cornered look began to creep into Ryu's eyes. "I don't know what you're talki—"

"You have used the Satsui no Hado." The flat pronouncement left no room for disagreement. "I can see it, branded into your soul even after all this time. You have felt the Murderous Intent flowing through your veins. You have held its power in your fists, used it to break those who stood against you."

"No!" Ryu bit the word out. "I didn't... It was just for an instant... just by accident..."

"Yes..." The word was a satisfied hiss. "An accident. But one which gave you power beyond imagining. And so you have come here, in hope of understanding the forces you have stumbled upon."

Ryu blanched, turning his head away to stare at the ground. "It was almost two years ago," he said at last. "At the end of the Street Fighter tournament. I nearly killed the man I was fighting."

Then he looked back up, meeting the other man's gaze desperately. "I need to understand what I did back then. I need to understand the power I touched. And you're the only one left who knows."

For what seemed like an eternity, Gouki merely regarded the boy expressionlessly. Then a small, humorless smile crossed his face. "You wish to kill me, don't you?"

Ryu started slightly at the question. "No, I don't," he said. His voice, however, was not altogether convincing, and his hands were clenched tightly into fists.

Gouki's smile widened. "No? I killed your master, Ryu. I beat him to death on the floor of his own dojo, left him lying in a pool of his own blood."

The sound of Ryu's teeth grinding together could clearly be heard. "That same master warned me against revenge," he recited in a monotone, glaring at Gouki. "Following his path is a better honor to him than your death."

"Your mouth says that. Your eyes say otherwise."

"Then they lie," Ryu rasped back, trying to stare the monster down. "I'm not a killer. I'm not like you."

Glowing eyes bored back into him. "Are you certain?"

And as Ryu hesitated, frozen... he realized with a jolt of fear that he wasn't.

Seeing his indecision, Gouki spoke again. "You came to this place seeking to understand the power you touched—the power of the Satsui no Hado. The answer you seek is merely the answer to that question. _What are you?_"

"Are you one of the sheep, huddled together in their little pen, bowing to rules created by the weak to enslave the strong? Or are you a 'killer', one who takes the power of life and death into his own hands, to use as _he_ sees fit?"

"That is the only question you must answer, Ryu. And there is only one way to answer it. If you desire the truth of what lies in your soul, you will not find it in words."

Immediately, Ryu knew what the older man meant. His face furrowed into a frown; then he began to back up, putting some distance between them. Until, at last, he dropped into a fighting stance.

For what seemed like an eternity they remained there, each watching the other, studying the other, searching for any advantage to exploit. Ryu held his stance, while Gouki simply stood erect. Silence choked the forest around them, as sunlight filtered down through gaps in the tree cover to play across the scene.

Then the boy attacked.

Without warning he exploded into motion, his figure blurring as he shot toward his opponent. He fired a barrage of punches at Gouki, followed immediately by a double-kick and a leg sweep. Gouki parried the initial attacks, then stepped back to allow the sweep to pass harmlessly in front of him.

_"Tatsumakisenpukyaku!"_ Ryu launched himself into the air after his retreating opponent, leg outstretched and beginning to spin. But he had not even completed one full rotation before Gouki lunged in, grabbing his kicking leg and arresting it in mid-flight. Then the older man slammed his shoulder into the airborne boy, plowing him straight into one of the nearby trees.

The big oak shook from the impact, and Ryu grunted in pain, but his hands were already moving in twin chops to each side of Gouki's neck. Gouki released his hold on Ryu's leg to intercept the attacks, grabbing the boy's wrists. At the same he drove his knee into Ryu's stomach, smashing him against the tree again, as though between a hammer and an anvil.

Ryu collapsed to his knees, only to have Gouki swing his fist down in a punch aimed at his head. Ryu managed to get a block up in time, knocking the attack away, but Gouki kept up the assault, launching blow after blow at him. Ryu parried the second, the third, the fourth, the fifth, but not the sixth, which slipped past his guard to catch him in the midsection.

Only too late did Gouki realize that it had been intentional. Ryu twisted, rolling with the punch, absorbing the damage for a chance to lunge in close—where his next move could not be avoided in time.

_"Hadoken!"_ he cried out, thrusting his palms out at point-blank range.

The energy blast caught Gouki dead center in the chest, sending him flying backward through the air, until he finally landed with a crash. Ryu, on the other hand, was still standing—but only just. _Don't think... I've ever been hit... as hard as he does..._ the boy thought, as he staggered for balance.

"Well done, Ryu." As Ryu watched, Gouki rose back to his feet—looking no worse for the wear. "There are not many alive who can land an attack on me."

Ryu dropped into his stance again, swallowing hard, trying to be ready for his foe's next move. But Gouki continued to speak. "Now, imagine if that blast had had the power of the Murderous Intent behind it! You have potential, Ryu, potential greater than you even begin to imagine."

"_No._ I won't betray Master Gouken." The words were growled through gritted teeth. "I will face this part of me, and I will defeat it."

"We shall see." And with those words, Gouki resumed the attack.

He charged at Ryu, jumping into the air and throwing a kick aimed at the boy's head. Ryu blocked, the shock of the impact traveling through his whole frame. He tried to retaliate with a punch, but Gouki's entire body suddenly dissolved into purple smoke. Ryu's eyes widened, but even as he tried to process what he had seen he could sense his foe materializing behind him. Acting on instinct, he tried to whirl around.

Too late. Ryu felt Gouki's hand grabbing him by his hair, yanking his head backward, pulling him straight into—

_"Mesatsu Go Shoryu!"_

The dark version of the Rising Dragon Punch tore into Ryu's unprotected back, sending him flying into the air. White light exploded in Ryu's vision, and he could do nothing to control his fall.

Gouki didn't even let him touch the ground. With a burst of speed he got under Ryu, throwing an uppercut into the falling boy's stomach, keeping him in the air. Then he spun into an elbow strike that smashed into Ryu's rib cage, followed by two sledgehammer-like punches. He ended with a side kick that knocked the boy away at last, ricocheting off a tree to crumple at last to the forest floor.

Coughing up blood, Ryu opened his eyes in time to see Gouki standing over him, leg upraised. With a strength born of desperation, Ryu hurled himself rolling away, as his foe's foot slammed down into the earth where his chest had been the previous instant.

It was only a temporary respite. Before he had finished his roll he felt Gouki's fingers clamp around his neck, hoisting him one-handed into the air. He hung there, helpless.

"You have lost," Gouki said at last. "As you are, you cannot hope to survive against me."

It took a few attempts, but Ryu managed to croak out an answer. "I'm not afraid to die."

The glowing red eyes studied him. "Are you truly not?" Gouki asked. "Or is it simply that your fear of what lies within you is greater?"

The boy's only answer was a weak attempt to kick at his foe, which Gouki batted aside. "It is your choice, Ryu. If you would only remove the restrictions of humanity from the purity of your Art, you would have the potential to transcend even me. It would be the most glorious battle either of us have ever faced."

Ryu hesitated. It would be easy, he knew. So very easy. And he wanted it so badly. The power to humble, to break, to destroy his master's murderer. It was all there, within reach. And for one terrible moment he felt sure that his humanity would not be too high a price.

But then, at that crucial juncture, a single memory flashed through his mind. A simple scene—himself, as a child, sitting next to Master Gouken on the dojo steps, looking out at the sunset.

He took a ragged breath and glared at the monster holding him, but the moment had passed. "No. Never."

Gouki's mouth twisted in an expression of distaste. "'Never' is a long time," he growled. "I should kill you here and now... but I am not willing to give up the chance at such a fight so easily. And I can see how close to the brink you teeter."

Ryu said nothing, as Gouki went on. "I will let you crawl away, beaten as you are. Come back when you have grasped what true power is, when you have learned the futility of any code or belief that limits you."

Then an ominous smile crossed Gouki's face. "In fact, your first lesson may come sooner than you think..."

Ryu's head snapped up. "What?"

And then, without warning, he heard a shout that flooded him with cold terror.

"_Stop!_ What are you doing to Master Ryu?"

Ryu wrenched his head around, catching sight of who had spoken. _No!_ his thoughts screamed. _What's she doing here? I told her it was too dangerous to follow me around—I told her!_

Standing at the edge of the forest was a young girl, clad in a Japanese school uniform. She had evidently just climbed to the top from a different landing than the one Ryu had used, and was facing the two opponents, standing in a simple fighting stance.

Before Ryu could shout a warning, Gouki was answering her. "Your master challenged me to battle, little warrior," he said. "And he lost. Which means his life is mine to take." The girl's eyes widened, understanding Gouki's words to mean exactly what he wanted her to believe.

"No!" Ryu rasped loudly, despite his opponent tightening his grip to where it was almost impossible to breathe. "Sakura... get away!"

But it was too late. Heedless of Ryu's warning, Sakura cupped her hands at her side, steeling her features in an expression of intense concentration. As she did, a small, glowing flame came to life between her palms. "Let him go!" she shouted, hurling the Hadoken at Gouki.

Gouki made no attempt to dodge as the ki projectile, allowing it to splash over him with a small grunt. He smiled, regarding his new attacker for a few moments, then tossed Ryu to the side and began to advance on her.

"Gouki!" Behind him, Ryu had somehow risen back to his feet, and was charging toward him unsteadily. Gouki didn't even look back—simply swung his hand behind him in a backhand that sent Ryu flying once more.

Step by step he drew closer to the girl, his glowing eyes looking down at her, evaluating her stance and her skill. She looked defiantly back up at him. Her arms and legs were trembling, but she held her ground as he approached, until soon he was towering over her.

Then, with a kiai, she threw a kick at Gouki's stomach. He caught her ankle long before it reached him, flinging her to the ground. She scrambled to her feet, and lunged at him with a punch. He sidestepped it, and as her momentum carried her past him, he brought up his own hand in a sharp strike aimed at the back of her neck. She crumpled to the ground like a puppet with her strings cut.

"Bastard!" Gouki glanced over to where the venom-laden invective had come from. Ryu was struggling to rise yet again—he had made it up onto one knee, but was swaying dangerously. "Leave... her alone!"

"It was she who challenged me," replied Gouki, unmoved. "And this brave little warrior will provide an excellent illustration of the truths you must come to understand."

At his feet, Sakura groaned and attempted to climb to her hands and knees. Gouki's answer was to place his foot on her back and shove her down to the ground. "You cling to your precepts and morals, but you do not yet truly understand the cost that comes with them."

A feeling of sick horror began to grow in Ryu. "Gouki, _no!_"

"You reject paths that lead to power, and so you find yourself powerless." As he spoke, the Ansatsuken master moved his foot along Sakura's back, until it rested squarely on the base of her neck.

"_Gouki!_" The voice was raw with fear and hatred.

"You will not use the Satsui no Hado..."

"_Damn you, Gouki!_"

"...and so you cannot save her." With that, he lifted his foot high into the air.

And something snapped inside Ryu.

In that moment, all of his thoughts, all of his perceptions, all of his emotions—everything he was—collapsed to a single, burning point. In all his universe only one thing existed, only one sensation could be felt, only one thought could be understood.

He was going to kill Gouki.

He did not remember standing. One instant he was kneeling on the ground, trying with all his strength to stay upright, the next instant he was on he feet. His weakness had left him. In fact, the very concept of "weakness" no longer held any meaning. He had power. He _was_ power. It coursed through his veins, it burned in his lungs, filling him, scouring him, purging him.

With a roar of rage, he released it. His aura exploded around him, the blast ripping up some of the surrounding trees by the roots, while bowing others to the ground, tearing their leaves from their branches and incinerating them. Beneath his feet the very earth was trembling.

Gouki was watching him, a satisfied smile on his face. Slowly he lowered his foot to the ground, then reached down and dragged Sakura to her feet. He barked a few quick words to her—Ryu was beyond comprehending their meaning—and then shoved her in the direction of the island's western shore. Then he turned to face the boy, his own aura beginning to rise as well.

Over them, the sky began to darken, an unnatural shadow blotting out the sun.. A howling wind kicked up, and the water around them began to rage. Destruction broiled around the two men as they stood facing each other, their eyes locked, identical thoughts on each of their minds.

Then, in a blur of motion too fast for any human eye to follow, they shot toward each other, meeting with an impact that shook the island to its very foundations.

* * *

Sakura ran.

Behind her, she could hear fearsome crashes and impacts, as the young man she had wanted so badly for her sensei fought with deadly intent against the demon-like man who had so easily beaten her. Tears of shame stung her eyes, as a single refrain kept running through her head. _This is all my fault._

Sakura didn't know—couldn't understand—what had happened to Master Ryu, but she knew without a doubt that it was something horrible. She had seen the pure hatred twisting his face, something she had never imagined she would see from someone like him. And it had happened because she hadn't listened to him, hadn't stayed away like he had told her to.

She risked a frightened glance over her shoulder, but all she could see were faint, nearly invisible blurs of motion, flickering between the trees, crashing into each other over and over again. It fed the growing realization of just how far in over her head she really was.

Soon she reached the edge of the forested area, and stared down the rocky slope to the shore below. And there she saw it, the mouth of the cave that the man had told her to take shelter in, before shoving her in this direction. She hesitated for a moment, then turned to begin climbing down there.

It was then that the first ki blast struck.

There was the sound of a huge explosion, as blinding crimson light bathed the scene. To Sakura, it was as if the entire sky had been painted red. An instant later the shockwave hit her, flinging her off her feet and over the edge.

Earth and sky spun wildly as she tumbled down the slope, landing in a heap at the bottom. Stone shrapnel from the blast fell all around her, some of the pieces striking her. Pain blossomed throughout her body, and she could hardly bear to move—but she knew without question that she would die if she didn't.

Shakily, she managed to get to her feet. She was covered in cuts and bruises, and her right arm hung limply at her side, blazing in agony. She looked despairingly around, realizing how far away the shelter of the cave was.

Then the sky lit up again, and there was no more time for thought. She ran stumbling toward the cave mouth, just barely making it inside before a second rain of rock pounded the shore, larger than the last.

Safe, for the moment, all Sakura could do was slump against the stone wall, curl herself into a ball and cry.

* * *

The battle raged the length and breadth of the island, each second seeing more techniques than many full fights. Ryu and Gouki clashed again and again, attacking, defending, countering, spinning, parrying, circling, evading. Human sight was all but useless at the speeds they were moving; they each depended solely on the sense of their enemy's presence.

Gouki unleashed another ki blast, which Ryu jumped over, rebounding off one of the few trees still standing into a flying kick. Gouki teleported away from the attack, but Ryu tracked his warp. When his foe rematerialized he was already there, catching Gouki's jaw with a backfist the instant it solidified. The blow would have crushed a normal man's face like an eggshell. Gouki winced.

Ryu growled, and tried to follow the technique up with a kick to the knee, but Gouki was already spinning in with an elbow to the stomach. And so the battle went on unabated, lasting for what seemed to Ryu like hours. Soon, even the immense power that he was drawing on began to flag, little by little, under the unbelievable feats he was performing. And it seemed as though the same was happening to Gouki.

The combatants began to slow, dropping down into the visible range. They did not, however, allow the power of their attacks to lessen one bit, as they tore at each other in their bloodlust. Their ki blasts soon became too large for either to effectively dodge. The fight was now a test of endurance—a vicious pounding match, each attacking the other with everything they had.

They traded attacks back and forth, tearing huge chunks out of the island, neither giving ground, neither slowing the pace. Ryu's arms felt like lead, his breath coming in short rasps, but he did not allow that to affect him as he battered Gouki with his power, and was battered in turn. Weariness meant nothing; the only thing that mattered was the death of his enemy.

How long it lasted, Ryu could not say. But it could not last forever. He pushed, and pushed, and pushed, until eventually, as he raised his hands to hurl his next attack, he knew that it would be the last he could manage.

Something stirred deep within him at the realization, driving him to put everything into this one final assault. He gathered his power, every last bit of it he could muster. Every dark thought. Every violent urging. Everything he had. Everything he was.

_Kill him._

_**Kill him!**_

_**KILL HIM!**_

With a howl of rage, Ryu loosed his final ki blast. It plowed into Gouki, its detonation shattering the island's entire upper section, sending rock flying everywhere. And then Ryu fell, the ground under him destroyed.

He landed in a crouch, crumpling immediately down to one knee, gasping for breath as stone fragments rained down around him. After a few seconds he looked up, trying to find some sign of his enemy.

And then he saw him. Gouki lay on his back, sprawled out on the ground, about twenty yards away. Ryu watched him, eyes narrowed, as he slowly brought his breathing back under control. Only one question was on his mind. Had he killed Gouki? Second after second ticked by, the question unanswered.

And then, slowly, Gouki picked himself off the ground, rising to a standing position. His balance was unsteady. Most of his gi top had been destroyed, and his hair hung unbound over his bloodied face. But he stood, ready to continue the fight.

_Kill him!_ demanded Ryu's thoughts. But there was no force behind them. He was empty, a shell. He had used the last reserves of his murderous rage, leaving himself with nothing. And it still had not been enough. He could not kill Gouki. He could not even rise to his feet.

He could only watch as Gouki raised his arms into the stance of the Shun Goku Satsu.

* * *

Gritting her teeth, fighting back the pain, Sakura clambered up what little was left of the stone slope. She had left the cave's shelter as soon as the sounds of the battle overhead had stopped, frantic to know what had happened to Ryu. _Please let him be all right,_ she begged. _Please let him be okay!_

But even as she thought the words, an uneasy dread was already beginning to form inside her. She knew something was very, very wrong. While the earth-shaking blasts might have stopped, the darkness of the sky overhead was only increasing. Almost as if in anticipation.

With a final effort, she crested the broken remains of the rise. The two combatants were now in view. Ryu was down on his knees, while his foe was in the process of standing. As she watched, the monstrous-looking man lifted his arms and brought one knee up, assuming a strange stance she had never seen before. Nonetheless, a shiver of dread ran through her at the sight of it.

_He's going to kill Master Ryu._ The cold realization struck her with utmost certainty—even before she saw the glowing energy begin to coalesce on the man's hands. She knew that whatever technique the man was using, it was a terrible one.

"No..." she whispered. "No, this can't happen..."

Breaking into a run, she charged toward the two fighters.

* * *

The whispers of the Murderous Intent filling his mind, Ryu fought to get back to his feet. He almost made it, before sinking back down to one knee. Across the blasted terrain, he saw Gouki gathering what was left of his power to use the Shun Goku Satsu. Ryu snarled, knowing his only hope lay in dodging the attack, and knowing just as well that he did not have the strength to do it.

He locked eyes with Gouki, who returned the favor dispassionately. He sensed his enemy's power peak, and knew that the moment of truth was imminent.

Then, with a burst of speed, Gouki shot forward toward Ryu.

* * *

Sakura's eyes widened as she saw the monster launch his attack. He flew across the ground, heading straight for her master. She was so close, but not close enough...

"_No!_" A sudden burst of strength and speed, like nothing she had ever known welled up in her. Ignoring her pain, she put everything into one last effort.

* * *

The Shun Goku Satsu hurtled toward Ryu, who gritted his teeth and made a final, desperate attempt to get out of its way, to win the fight, to kill Gouki. But his legs would not respond. He watched as the dark technique bore down on him, growing closer and closer...

...until, just before it struck, a small body hurled itself in front of it.

In that moment, time seemed to grind to a crawl for Ryu. His eyes took in every detail as she floated across his field of vision—the bleeding cuts covering her body, the rips and tears in her uniform, the determined clench of her fists as Gouki's hands latched onto her and everything exploded into white light...

"_SAKURA!_"

The scream tore itself from Ryu's throat, as the horror of the sight pierced straight through the toxic cloud of the Satsui no Hado, stabbing straight into the heart of the man he once was. The strength he did not have before, he had now. Exploding upward from his kneeling position, he leaped into the heart of the Shun Goku Satsu.

Even as he moved, an orange flash of light exploded at the center of the white light. And a second. And a third. He could hear Sakura screaming in agony, as though from a great distance.

And then he was there, his hands reaching into the glow and latching around her shoulders. For a brief instant he had the sensation of heat, and sulfur. But he paid it no heed. Wrenching with all his might, he tore her free of the dark technique.

An unearthly howl echoed in Ryu's ears, the cry of something inhuman deprived of its prey. But they were already beyond reach, the trajectory of Ryu's headlong leap carrying them past the source of the light and to the ground. The two of them hit hard, uncontrolled, rolling over each other until their momentum was spent. Behind them, Ryu could hear the sounds of the explosions continuing, even increasing their pace. Then, finally, they ceased, and the light faded.

For a while, Ryu could only lie there, half-conscious, spent beyond all endurance. It was almost a minute before he regained his presence of mind. "Sakura?" he managed to croak out, raising his head to look at her. Then his eyes widened. "Sakura!"

She lay there, limp in his arms. She was still alive; he could see her breathing, could feel that she was still warm—but her eyes were unfocused, staring off in a frozen expression of terror at something only she could see.

Struggling, he managed to rise to a sitting position and tried to examine her more closely. He could sense her presence, but there was something wrong, something _broken_ about it. Something that he had never felt before. _What is this?_ he thought desperately. _What did Gouki do to her?_

_Gouki..._

Cursing himself, Ryu whirled his head around, looking for his enemy. _Where is he?_ he thought. _Why hasn't he attacked us yet? What will—?_

But the train of thought died abruptly, as he saw the last thing that he had expected to see. Where Ryu had last seen him standing, Gouki now lay sprawled on his back. Unmoving.

For a moment he simply sat there, stunned. It was only then that he recalled something his master had told him long ago. Although Master Gouken had never instructed him in the Shun Goku Satsu, he had spoken _of_ it on rare occasions. And on one of those occasions, he had mentioned one of the terrible attributes of the technique: its ability to claim the life of the wielder as well as the target.

_When I pulled Sakura free... that must have disrupted it somehow,_ Ryu realized. _Without her, it went back on him. He was killed by his own technique._

He looked down at Sakura, then back to Gouki, then back to Sakura again. A detached numbness had settled over him, as though he were watching events that had happened to someone else a long time ago. Slowly, mechanically, he reached down and picked up Sakura, cradling her in his arms. Then he rose to his feet.

He looked around him. He watched the now-calm waves lap against the island's blasted shell. He watched the white clouds drifting through the now-blue sky. He watched as far-off gulls circled lazily through the air.

And as he watched, he knew that he could never again watch it with the same eyes as he once had.


	17. Ray of Light

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Street Fighter in any way, shape or form. It and all associated characters, trademarks, etc. are owned by Capcom. I'm just telling some stories about them.

* * *

Chapter Seventeen: Ray of Light

China, March 15

Silence filled the training hall at the conclusion of Ryu's story. Chun-li wore a concerned expression, while Gen's face gave no sign of what his thoughts were. Ryu, for his part, did not meet either of their eyes, but instead kept his gaze focused resolutely on the floor in front of him.

After a while, he spoke again. "There isn't much more than that," he said. "I threw Gouki's body into the sea, and then I managed to dig my boat out of the rubble. Fortunately, it was intact enough to get us to the mainland. I brought Sakura to the hospital. And then..."

"Before I went to the island, the Satsui no Hado had been a whispered temptation—faint, indistinct. But after what I did there, it became much worse. The desires never give me a moment's peace anymore; they're always there, clawing at my mind, trying to get out." Slowly, Ryu's voice dropped to a strained whisper. "I can feel them even now..."

Then, with what was obviously a wrenching effort, he shook himself. "So I hid. I gave up fighting, gave up traveling, gave up my name—anything and everything that would connect me to the martial artist I used to be. I lost myself in the dark places of the city, avoiding everybody, living off the refuse of others, and trying to hang on to what was left of my sanity."

There was another period of uncomfortable silence, until Ryu at last stood. "Please... excuse me," he said, his voice pained. "I thank you for your hospitality, Master Gen, but I... need to be alone for a while." Then, without waiting for an answer, he turned and walked quickly out the door leading outside.

As soon as he had left, Gen gave a quiet snort. "The poor fool," he said. "Trying to resist the Satsui no Hado while sitting in the same room as two potential opponents as skilled as you and I. I'm surprised he lasted as long as he did."

Chun-li looked over at Gen sharply. "Is there a risk? Should we have separated ourselves sooner?"

The old master laughed. "If he is to be victorious over the demons he faces, he will have to face far more harrowing struggles than that." His eyes tracked along the outside wall as he spoke, and Chun-li knew that he was following Ryu's presence outside. "It is truly fascinating. To think that the invincible Akuma could be brought low by the blunderings of two children. I would never have believed it possible."

"Can you help him?" asked Chun-li.

"I can teach him," Gen responded. "I can give him knowledge about what he faces, and how best to fight it. Whether such training will help him depends entirely on his own strength of will."

"I see. How long will this training take?"

At that, Gen turned to look directly at her, raising an eyebrow. "Already you ask for a schedule?" he said, voice laced with contempt. "Really, girl, was your _own_ impatience not enough for you? Do you seek to extend it to _all_ my students now?"

Chun-li sighed. "I ask, master, only because I don't know how long we will be safe here. Bison is searching for Ryu, and I don't know how long we can keep him from tracking us."

"Ah yes, Bison. Always Bison." The corner of Gen's mouth quirked up into a sardonic little smile. "Just like a year ago. Unfortunately, matters of the Art have little regard for timetables. I will begin with the boy tomorrow, after he has had the chance to rest and calm himself. I may be able to tell you more then."

"Fair enough." Chun-li nodded. "I'd prefer not to relocate—the more involved we make things, the more chance of something slipping through to one of Bison's moles. But if it looks like the training is going to extend for too long, it may be safer in the end." She paused. "And of course, we should get Yun and Yang away from here immediately."

Gen only waved his hand dismissively. "No. The boys stay."

"_What?_" Chun-li's eyes widened in disbelief.

"I believe that I made myself clear."

"You're talking about keeping children in a place that could be hit by Bison at any moment! This isn't some kind of game going on here!"

"Which is precisely why I want them to stay," was Gen's level reply. "When I was their age I had already killed more than ten men, but those two have not even _seen_ death yet. No. Let them experience whatever is to come. They will be the stronger for it."

"Or they'll be dead," spat Chun-li.

"We all of us die..." replied Gen softly. "The only difference is what heights we dare aspire to before our deaths come."

For a few moments Chun-li simply stood there, speechless, before shaking her head angrily. "You're making a mistake. I'm warning you, if any harm comes to those kids..."

Gen only smiled thinly at her. "...you'll what?"

Chun-li said nothing, resisting the urge to swear under her breath. Only a few hours back with her former teacher, and already they were falling into all too familiar patterns. She knew that forcing a confrontation with the old man would be disastrous at this point, much though she hated to admit it. Instead, she closed her eyes and took a breath, only opening them once she had calmed herself.

Her anger receded, leaving only a deep weariness in its wake. She rose to her feet. "Is there anything else we need to discuss?" she asked tiredly. "If not, I'd like to spend some time meditating before it's time to sleep."

"I know everything I need to know," was Gen's reply.

With a nod, Chun-li turned and walked toward a door leading out of the room. As she was about to step through, however, she paused, looking back at Gen. "There is one thing," she said. "Just what do you think the chances are of this working? Of Ryu actually managing to suppress the Satsui no Hado?"

In reply, Gen smiled and gestured toward the place where Ryu had been sitting, where his plate of food still lay. "Have a look at this," he told her.

Chun-li frowned, quickly realizing what Gen was pointing out. "He didn't eat anything," she said. "Is that significant?"

"Very much so," was Gen's answer. "Tell me, in the time you've been with him, have you seen him eat anything at all?"

The policewoman searched her memory, but could not find a single example. "No," she said at last. "I haven't."

"As I suspected." There was a satisfied note in Gen's voice. "He is changing, his body growing more and more enmeshed with his power each time he wields it. If I am any judge, he has almost completely surpassed the need for food. He may still need water, but not for much longer. Such human restrictions mean little to a soul that has achieved the level of oneness with the Satsui no Hado that he has."

Chun-li swallowed, her throat suddenly dry. "And what are the chances of him being able to turn back from that kind of a state?"

Gen looked directly into Chun-li's eyes. "I have given my word to train the boy, and help him as best I can. And I will do this. But if I were you, I would spend my time planning how the boy can best be killed when he at last surrenders to his desires. Because there is no question in my mind that, sooner or later, he will."

* * *

China, March 16

Early morning light filtered into the training hall, warming Gen as he stood in the center. It was obvious that the old man was deep in thought, but he gave no sign as to what those thoughts might concern. Every so often, however, his eyes would stray down to the small, weathered scroll he held in his hands, considering it.

Behind him, a door opened, and footsteps could be heard entering. "Master Gen," came the respectful yet strained voice of the young man he was waiting for. "Chun-li told me that you were ready to begin training me."

Gen grunted, turning to face the boy. "Indeed," he said, noting the pale, taut expression in his student's face. "Have a seat."

The two sat on the floor of the training hall in lotus position, facing each other. "When learning to master our demons," Gen began. "The first step is often learning to face them. In your case, the first step will be to touch the Satsui no Hado without allowing it to overcome you. Consider it a test."

Ryu frowned. "You want me to use that power, in my current condition? Won't that be... dangerous?"

"Extremely," was Gen's reply. "Now then. I will instruct you in a technique of true Ansatsuken. You will perform it. And then we shall see what you are truly made of. Do you understand me?"

The young man swallowed, then nodded. "Good," Gen told him. "Of course, there are any number of attacks that you could begin with. However, your situation suggests a slightly different course to my mind." As he spoke, Gen set the scroll on the floor between them and opened it.

Ryu leaned in closer to look at what was written on the ancient parchment, even as Gen continued to speak. "This move is unusual in that, while it is unquestionably a Satsui no Hado technique, it is one of the very few of that school that is _not_ an attack. That fact may be of some slight aid as you attempt to use it safely."

"Ashura Senkuu... Teleportation..." Ryu murmured, as his eyes drifted across the text and diagrams that were written in the old scroll. Then he looked up at Gen. "I recognize this technique. Gouki used it against me when we fought."

"Indeed..." said Gen. "Having seen it employed will aid you in learning it. I myself have never practiced it—I find its cost in raw power impractical for the benefit it gives. Nevertheless, I am quite familiar with the principles behind it, and I will explain them to you if necessary."

Ryu nodded, looking back down at the scroll. "It looks very different from normal ki projection techniques," he said slowly. "The flow is almost completely reversed... Folded back in on itself... And the number of focus points... there are more here than anything I've studied before..."

"It is a highly advanced technique," agreed Gen. "Few could even attempt to master it."

"Yes, but the strange part is... even with all that, I can't see where the actual work of the teleportation is being done... There just isn't—" The young man paused. "Wait, no. I think I understand. It's the interaction, isn't it? The user isn't pulled into the warp at the points of focus, it happens _in between_ them, at the boundary where the focus points interact with each other."

"Impressive," Gen said, raising his eyebrows slightly. "That is almost exactly correct, except for one detail." He pointed down to a single point on one of the diagrams. "That one focus point _is_ critical in its own right. Without it there is no way to direct the teleportation, which would be disastrous for obvious reasons..."

The two martial artists continued to talk for over an hour, going over the various diagrams in the scroll in meticulous detail. Gen helped Ryu translate the scroll's text, as the younger man's Chinese was not up to some of the more esoteric terms. Eventually, Gen felt Ryu was ready to attempt the technique himself.

Ryu assumed a meditative position, then closed his eyes. And for the next few hours there was no movement in the training hall. Gen watched the young man impassively, while Ryu simply sat there, brow furrowed in intense concentration.

Only when Ryu at last opened his eyes and glanced at Gen questioningly did the old master speak. "You are close. It is only your timing that is off. The technique must begin in all parts of your body in the same instant, or the proper balance will be impossible to achieve."

Ryu nodded, then closed his eyes again. Another hour passed. Still there was no apparent change.

Then, without warning, there was a snapping noise, and Ryu's body dissolved into purple smoke. In an eyeblink, the tendrils stretched the length of the training hall, congealing at the far end as Ryu's form snapped back into existence.

Instantly Gen was on his feet, dashing over to where the boy was now kneeling, shoulders trembling. "Ryu," he said, his voice full of command. "Ryu, look at me."

Ryu's head snapped up, and Gen saw that his face wore an expression of unthinking, animalistic fury. His eyes were bloodshot, with crackles of red energy flashing across them sporadically. He appeared to be trying to speak, but all that emerged from his mouth was a long, strangled snarl.

"Ryu, listen to the sound of my voice," Gen continued, speaking calmly and steadily. "You must now make a decision. The power is warping your mind, just as it has done each time you have used it. I can shield you from the corruption, but—"

With a wordless scream of rage, the young man swung his fist at Gen's face. The old man's hands blurred into invisibility, trapping the strike in midair. "—but you are the only one who can choose to control yourself. Be ready. The window will be very brief."

As he spoke, a strange presence seemed to settle around the old master—as though the air in his vicinity had grown tasteless, stale and dead. Ryu jerked back, startled, as though someone had struck him. Gen stared deeply into the boy's eyes, his gaze fierce and unblinking. "Make your choice, boy."

For several long seconds they simply remained there, locked in place, Ryu straining against Gen's grip, trying to complete his swing and smash the old man's face in. Then, slowly but surely, his struggles began to calm. Soon, his arm went limp in Gen's grasp, and he collapsed backward, gasping for breath.

Seeing this, Gen rose to his feet. "Not bad. You passed the test. I truly did not think you had it in you to do that."

Ryu did not reply, only sat limply on the ground, sweat beading on his forehead, his eyes focused on something off in the distance. Gen continued. "What you just experienced was an aura control technique that I use to seal off my mind from the effects of the Satsui no Hado."

That made the young man look up. "This technique... can cure me?" he asked hopefully.

"No," said Gen sharply. "Make no mistake, boy. There is no 'cure' for what you have done to yourself. It is your own warped soul that you are fighting against. The desires you have—to win at any cost, to crush all that stand in opposition to you—they will not abate in the slightest simply because you have learned to control your ki in this way."

"The temptation to give in, to let yourself fall—that will always be there. All this will do is prevent the damage from worsening. It may not be much, but it is your only hope, however slim. Without it, you will unquestionably become a being like Akuma was... or else lose your mind entirely."

Ryu paled at the words, but he nodded. "When can I learn how to do this?"

Gen grunted. "It will not be easy. The secrets of control are in many ways the deepest and most mysterious aspect of my Ansatsuken. They took me almost a decade, and great... personal cost... to develop. However, with me as your teacher you should be able to learn them in somewhat less time."

He looked down at the boy, checking him over. "I believe we have done as much as is wise for today. Spend the rest of the day in meditation and contemplation. It will calm you, and help to prepare you for when the real work begins tomorrow."

* * *

With the training hall occupied by Gen and Ryu, Chun-li had moved her morning workout outdoors. She too had been up with the dawn, and had soon finished her normal exercises. Once she had done that, she had then run Yun and Yang through their paces, prompting a fair share of good-natured grumbling at how much of a taskmaster their friend had become.

After that, the boys had moved off to spar on their own, leaving Chun-li to practice some of her more advanced forms and techniques. It felt good. With all her work at Interpol over the past few weeks, she hadn't realized how much she had missed the chance to simply train for hours on end, with no other demands on her.

She quickly lost track of time, caught up in the movement and the exertion of her art. She spun, lunged, crouched, leaped, hands and feet moving with hypnotic speed and grace. Eventually she paused to catch a breather, wiping the sweat from her brow. It was then that she noticed Ryu.

He was standing on the bridge that spanned the small brook running through the compound, hands resting on one of the railings, looking out into nothing. Chun-li hesitated for a moment, then slowly began to walk over to where he stood.

He did not visibly acknowledge her presence as she drew near to him, but she could tell he knew she was there. She stepped onto the bridge behind him, moving to the opposite railing and leaning against it, giving Ryu his space.

There was silence for a long while, except for the gurgling noise of the water beneath them flowing along its rocky bed. Eventually, Ryu spoke. "Hello, Inspector."

"It's not Inspector," she reminded him, her voice friendly. "Chun-li."

"Ah, yes. I apologize... Chun-li."

"Don't worry about it," the policewoman said. "So. How did the training with Master Gen go?"

"I'm... not sure, really. I did better than he expected me to, at least."

"That's something," she said optimistically.

"Yes," Ryu agreed. "I just hope it's enough."

There was another long silence. Then Ryu spoke again. "Inspec... Chun-li... May I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"There seems to be some... tension... between you and Master Gen."

Chun-li sighed, turning away to gaze down at the water from her own side of the bridge. "You might say that," she admitted. "We have a few differences of opinion in our philosophies of the martial arts. It all came to a head about a year ago." This wasn't a story she particularly liked to tell, but Ryu had asked her the question, and she wanted to build as much trust with the young man as she could.

"You have to understand, with Master Gen, it was always the Art first and foremost. He wanted me to devote myself to perfecting it like he had, to make everything else secondary. But for me..." she hesitated. "Don't misunderstand—I love the martial arts. There are few things I enjoy more. But for me, it's ultimately a means to an end. I need the strength to help me stop Bison, and when it was a choice between that and the 'pursuit of the Art'... well, it wasn't even a choice."

"Eventually, Master Gen realized that my interest in the Art wasn't for the Art's own sake. And that didn't go over very well at all. I didn't learn very much new from him after that, and pretty soon I ended up taking my leave. This is the first time I've been back since then."

She shook her head ruefully, then glanced over her shoulder at Ryu. "What do you think? Am I following 'impure reasons' for learning?"

Ryu let out a single, harsh bark of laughter. "I hardly think that I'm in a position to lecture _anyone_ on the proper use of the Art," he said. "But... for what it's worth... I don't think Master Gouken would have disagreed with your motives."

Chun-li could hear the reverence in his voice when he spoke of his master. "He was... very close to you, wasn't he?" she ventured.

The young man nodded, numbly. "He was my teacher, my friend, and my father," he said quietly. "He took me in, raised me, trained me. I don't remember a life without him. And when he was gone, without warning, it was like..." his voice trailed off.

"...like someone had torn the heart straight out of your chest..." Chun-li said, softly. "Like everything about you was dead. And the cruelest part was that you still had to walk around, do things, as if you were still alive."

Chun-li looked over her shoulder at Ryu, to see that the young man was facing her now, surprise on his features. "My father... died suddenly as well," she explained. "He was an Interpol officer, like me. Bison killed him."

"I... I'm sorry."

The policewoman turned back to watch the stream. "Thanks."

Another long silence fell, but this time it was Chun-li who broke it. "And so now you know why I'm after Bison the way I am. Or something like that at least." She gave a bitter little laugh. "Hell, half the time I'm not even sure why I'm really doing it myself."

"It's more than just revenge—I know that much. It's something I _need_ to do, something I need to do for my father. Not because he's up there demanding Bison's blood or anything, but because... because..." she broke off struggling for the words.

"...because it was his work." Ryu said.

Now it was Chun-li's turn to look over at him, surprised. Ryu only continued, still looking down at the water. "Because when you follow in his footsteps, you're finishing the work that he left undone. Fulfilling the last trust that he left you. And because... because when you're doing the things he did, that's how you can feel the closest to him. That's the place where you're most sure, more than any other time, that he'd be proud of you."

Ryu paused, then let out a hiss of self-contempt. "Unless, of course, you take his legacy and pervert it beyond all recognition."

For a moment Chun-li simply stood there, frozen, unsure of what to do with the confession she had just been given, unsure of how to react to the flat despair in Ryu's voice. Then, making up her mind, she walked closer to him. And, with no small amount of trepidation, she gently laid her hand on the young man's shoulder.

Ryu stiffened under the contact, but did not otherwise move. "Listen to me," she said, putting all the confidence and reassurance into her voice that she could muster. "You're not done yet. You may have made some mistakes, but your master's legacy hasn't been lost yet, and it won't ever be until the day you stop fighting for it. I believe you can win this, Ryu."

The young man looked back at her, unreadable emotions warring in his eyes. Then he looked away. "Thank you," he said simply.

Then, slowly, he raised his hand to his shoulder, clasping it tightly over hers, as though hanging on for dear life. And for several minutes they simply remained there, sharing a moment of human comfort in the midst of the dangers looming around and within them.

* * *

Night was always the hardest time for Ryu.

He had long since lost most of his need for sleep. Most nights he slept little more than half an hour, leaving him nothing to do with the rest of the night—except remain awake and suffer the torments of his traitorous thoughts. There were few things to distract him at night, few things to take his mind off the constant demands for release.

And more, the darkness itself seemed to have an effect on his mind, drawing out his violent desires far more than under the sun. Moonlight was of help, occasionally. But even the moon could not be seen that night—the entire sky was blanketed with clouds.

He was seated outside in the garden, in a meditative position, trying—and failing—to keep his mind clear of all thoughts. Even so, the memories of that afternoon gave strength in his struggle. _I am a student of Master Gouken,_ he thought resolutely to himself. _I am protected by friends who believe that I can overcome this. I will not let them down._

"Ryu."

With a start, his head snapped up. Had he imagined that? For a moment he had thought that someone had called him, but...

"Ryu."

And there it was again, a voice, strangely familiar, and yet strangely not. He could not quite place it. Slowly he rose to his feet, and began to walk toward the origin of the voice, almost as if in a trance.

"Come. Face me, Ryu."

He could tell where the words were coming from now—from the area around the stream. And yet he could see no one there. With each step he drew closer, until at last he was standing at the stream's bank. Leaning over, he looked into the water. He felt a strange sense of familiarity as his reflection looked back up at him. As though this had happened somewhere before.

And then he caught his breath. The eyes of his reflection were glowing with a red light, even as it smiled cruelly up at him. "Hello, Ryu," his dark twin spoke up to him. "Thank you for coming out of hiding."

Ryu's throat went dry. "This... isn't possible... " he managed to croak. "What's going on here?"

His double's smile widened. "Oh, I find that a stream is one of the best places to have a talk with one's reflection. You really ought to stop pretending, Ryu. You know you want to kill them all."

"No." Ryu's voice was shaky, yet he put as much meaning into the word as he could. "I don't. They're my friends. Not my enemies."

"Liar." The smile of Ryu's double turned to a sneer of contempt. "You're only fooling yourself. Clinging to your sad little delusions of righteousness. That's over now; you've gone too far to go back. Stop faking humanity, and become who you truly are!"

"_No!_" Ryu was shouting now. He wanted desperately to move away from water, away from the voice, but his legs would not respond. "I don't have to listen to this from you! I decide what I will do! Not some twisted reflection of myself!"

But his twin's face only settled back into an evil smile. "Perhaps..." he said smugly. "But you may want to ask yourself one question, Ryu. Is it me who is merely the reflection? Or is it _you_?"

Ryu opened his mouth to reply, only to suddenly realize that somehow, the ripples of the stream were somehow closer than before. A feeling of horrifying vertigo swept over him, as he realized that _he was in the stream now_, looking up at the grinning figure standing over him. "No..." he managed to whisper. Then he howled, reaching fruitlessly for his double. "_No!_"

His double only laughed, and turned to walk away. Ryu screamed at his tormentor, throwing himself against the barrier between them to no avail. He could only watch as the dark figure walked toward the training hall, toward where his friends were sleeping, as he screamed and screamed and—

—and surged upright into a sitting position, gasping desperately for breath. The stream was nowhere nearby; he was back where he had been meditating when he had first heard the sound. In an unreasoning panic, he checked his hands, his clothes for bloodstains, but found none. The night was cold, calm and peaceful, save for his feverish gasps and the pounding of his heart.

Just a dream.

_No,_ Ryu thought. _Not just a dream. I've never had a dream like that. I've never dreamed at all since I used the Satsui no Hado on the island._ Anxiously, he rose to his feet. _Something... is wrong. Something is very wrong._

His breathing had begun to calm a little, but his blood was still burning in his veins. He could feel the cries of his dark desires, magnified now, as if in response to something.

Still disoriented from the dream, he looked wildly around, first to the left, then to the right. No sign of anything out of the ordinary. But there was something, he was more sure of it with each passing moment. Then, as his mind began to clear, he slowly raised his head to look up into the sky.

Just in time to see, dropping through the cloud cover, three black helicopters, their rotor blades spinning with eerie silence. They descended toward the buildings below in a triangular formation. And at the center of that triangle...

It was a figure, clad in a blood red uniform, shrouded with a dark cloak that billowed around him as he levitated slowly downward. Ryu could feel power radiating from him, power as dark and terrible as his own. He had never seen the man before, but he knew immediately who it was.

Whirling around, he sprinted with all he was worth for the training hall. He threw open the doors, screaming out his warning as he did so. "Master Gen! Chun-li!"

"_Bison's here!_"


	18. Assault

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Street Fighter in any way, shape or form. It and all associated characters, trademarks, etc. are owned by Capcom. I'm just telling some stories about them.

* * *

Chapter Eighteen: Assault

China, March 16

Save for Ryu's one, desperate cry, there had been no warning.

The attackers' approach had been completely masked; no one in the compound had sensed anything out of the ordinary. The most Chun-li could claim was a vague sense of uneasiness, which she had ignored. One moment all had been at peace. She had been sitting in her room, working on a long-overdue report to her superiors, and reflecting on the days' events.

And then all hell had broken loose.

"_Bison's here!_"

For a second, Chun-li had simply frozen. Those two simple words echoed in her mind, but she was unable to fully comprehend their meaning. Years of desperate, ceaseless hunting for the madman flashed before her eyes, all of them summed up in what she had just heard Ryu scream out.

Bison. Here.

She sprang to her feet. Ryu's voice had been coming from ground level, two floors below her. That was where she needed to be. Securing him was the first priority. Her mind was already racing, trying to guess at what form the Shadowlaw assault was taking even as she sprinted through her door and into the hallway...

The whir of a rappelling rope registered in her ears, then a split second later a window ahead of her burst inward in a shower of glass. A figure covered from head to toe in heavy tactical armor swung through it, bringing an assault rifle to bear on her as he did so.

Chun-li was on him before he could finish lining her in his sights. Her first kick caught him in the wrist, snapping it and sending his gun flying. Without pause she continued her motion, leaping into the air off her standing leg, then whipping it around in a flying spin kick that crashed into her attacker's armored facemask.

The man's head snapped back and he staggered away, but he kept his footing. His uninjured hand snatched a knife out of his belt as he did so, ripping it from its sheath in a fluid slash that forced Chun-li to quickly back up a couple steps. _Damn! These guys are good,_ she thought. _Elite commandos. Probably Bison's best, short of the Dolls._

The man lunged toward her, knife hissing through the air once, twice, three times as Chun-li backpedaled. On the third slash, she saw her opening. She darted in, parrying his attack and twisting his arm into a painful lock that sent the knife clattering to the floor. He tried to swing his other elbow around to strike at her, but she countered by slamming his helmeted head into the wall before he could complete the attack.

Another whirring noise reached her ears, and she knew a second commando was coming down the same rope. Swinging the man she held around, she drove a kick into his chest, sending his body flying out the broken window just as his comrade was trying to swing through it.

The two collided painfully, and both plummeted earthward. Quickly sliding her foot under the commando's fallen knife, Chun-li kicked in into the air, then in a single motion grabbed it and hurled it out the window as well. The blade severed the rappelling rope, preventing the second commando from halting his fall, and keeping any more from coming down for a few precious seconds.

Looking out the newly-made hole in the wall, she could see that the situation was bad. There were two helicopters hanging silently in the air over the garden area, and she knew that there had to be a third above her. Commandos were pouring down from the two that she could see, all of them converging on the training hall to secure it from below, while the forces in the third helicopter struck from above. A classic pincer assault.

Then her brief analysis was cut violently short. The troops in the helicopter above, unable for a moment to rappel down to her level, began to open fire with their assault rifles, pumping bullets blindly into the woodwork above her, hoping for a lucky shot.

With blinding speed, she threw herself sideways, vacating the area even as the first bullets began to strike. She landed in a handspring that carried her further down the hall, watching with half an eye as her foes' massed fire shredded the spot where she had been standing.

She continued to run, making for the stairs. The foes above could wait, and she prayed that Yun and Yang would find someplace to hide. First and foremost, she needed to find Ryu, before it was too late for _all_ of them.

* * *

Outside, Bison watched as his main assault force reached the training hall, preparing to make their entry into the large building. He smiled at how things were progressing, then turned to the unit commander. "Keep a dozen men outside to form a perimeter, and have the other two squads search the building. You know your orders."

The commander nodded. "Yes, my lord. We will leave no survivors." With that, he began to run toward the building himself, shouting orders into his radio as he did so.

It was only after the man had passed out of earshot that Bison allowed himself a small chuckle. "Oh, I highly doubt that," he said softly. "But your attempt will serve my plans nonetheless..."

* * *

The door of the training hall exploded inward, kicked by one of the commandos, who immediately charged through. The rest of his team followed close behind, fanning out across the entryway, their rifles at the ready. "Spread out and search the ground floor first," their leader ordered. "Let Red Squad handle the upper levels. Stay with your partner, and stay alert."

A chorus of acknowledgments rippled through the group in reply. They began to move down the hallway, breaking off by pairs to search the various rooms in their path. Their heavy footfalls echoed on the hardwood floor, followed soon after by crashing noises as they began to knock over furniture, looking for the building's inhabitants.

Carefully, methodically, their search progressed. One pair of commandos stepped through a door, moving into what appeared to be a small bedroom. There were two floor mats on the ground, with scattered sheets that indicated they had been slept in recently.

Communicating with hand signals, they moved through the room. They tossed aside a pair of low tables, but found nothing under either. Then they turned to the closet on the far side of the room. Covered by his partner, one of the soldiers walked over to it and threw open the door.

Huddled inside were two boys, barely over ten from their appearance. They jerked fearfully, seeing the automatic weapons trained directly at them. Underneath his tactical gear, one of the commandos winced. He didn't like killing kids.

But there was nothing for it; his orders were clear. With only a slight hesitation, his finger tightened on the trigger.

"_Stop!_"

Both soldiers whirled at the enraged shout, bringing their weapons to bear. There, standing just inside the doorway, was a young man, dressed in nondescript clothes, glaring at them with bloodshot eyes. A slight knot of unease settled in their stomachs as they watched him. How had he gotten behind them without any of their team noticing?

But he was noticed now. Within seconds a half-dozen commandos were in the hallway, their weapons all trained on him. Still, his gaze did not leave the two in the room for a moment.

Then he spoke again, his voice soft yet menacing. "Stand away from those children. _Now._"

In response, both commandos in the room opened fire on him.

If the soldiers had been far, far better trained then they were, they might have been able to see the young man move. As it was, he simply vanished from their sight, leaving them to gape as their bullets struck harmlessly into the far wall. For a half-second they simply stood there, wondering where their target had gone.

Then they found out.

A pair of hands reached in from behind them, grabbing hold of the mens' guns and crushing them effortlessly. Instinctively, the commandos whirled around, going for their knives. They never even got close.

The young man grabbed one of them by the front of his tactical armor, hurling him at the far wall, headfirst. The commando's body smashed straight through it, falling into the hallway outside in a shower of debris. The second commando was grabbed by the throat, hoisted into the air and slammed up against the nearer wall, choking helplessly as the fingers around his windpipe tightened.

As the young man watched the soldier struggle for breath, small flashes of dark red energy began to flicker across his eyes...

* * *

"Yes..." hissed Bison, as he watched the building his forces were attacking. "So close. A little more pressure, and your mind will be gone, boy. And my trap will be waiting for you."

The madman licked his lips in anticipation, then looked up to check the altitude that his helicopters were hovering at, ready for his coming withdrawal. The timing might be tight, but he was supremely confident that he would succeed. _It requires nerves of steel to bait a dragon,_ he thought. _But the reward is beyond measuring. And this dragon has no wings, while I do._

Then abruptly, Bison frowned. Yes, everything was proceeding according to plan... and yet there was a vague sense of unease troubling him. The feeling of something out of place. Almost as though...

Almost as though he were being watched.

Slowly, Bison lifted his gaze up to the roof of the building—and the tall, purple-robed figure who stood there, observing the proceedings below him with a dispassionate eye. How long had he been there, studying them, undetected? Bison's eyes narrowed. This was not a man to underestimate.

The two mens' eyes met, their stares locking one with another. Then, with measured grace, the old man stepped off the edge of the roof, plummeting down to the ground, landing in a light crouch. Immediately he rose to his feet, and began walking toward Bison.

The commandos holding the perimeter around the building did not take kindly to this. The nearest one raised his assault rifle, drawing a bead on the approaching figure. He never got the chance to fire.

Without warning, the old man blurred into motion, appearing next to the soldier and delivering a half-dozen lethal strikes in the blink of an eye. The man crumpled bonelessly—but not before his attacker whipped the knife free of the soldier's belt sheath and hurled it at another foe, embedding it to the hilt in the man's facemask. The two bodies hit the ground almost simultaneously.

"Hold!" Bison's voice snapped out, his command stopping any more of his servants from attacking. After all, he still had a use for them.

The old man gave the assembled soldiers a contemptuous glance, then settled his gaze on Bison. "You have come to my home both late and unannounced," he said. "And making a considerable commotion at that. It has been a while since I've entertained such ill-mannered guests."

Bison's eyes narrowed. "So you must be Gen," he said, crossing his arms. "The legendary assassin. Your reputation precedes you, old man."

"Ah. Not quite as ignorant as he appears, then," replied Gen, as though pleasantly surprised. "I take it you are Bison, the one whose minions have been giving my former pupil such a difficult time. Perhaps you would care to try her teacher."

The madman laughed at that, his corrupted purple aura springing to life around him. "Why not?" he answered. "It will serve to pass the time before the real show begins."

* * *

Chun-li had reached the ground floor, moving stealthily from room to room. Whatever power or technology of Bison's that had masked the soldiers' approach was still in effect. Even knowing they were there, she could sense none of their presences, and that had forced her to fall back on her police training to avoid being gunned down before reaching Ryu.

She stepped quickly over the bodies of two soldiers, who had been searching that room until she had rendered them unconscious. Neither had even realized her presence until it had been far too late; she had taken them down without a sound.

It was then that she heard the angry shout of "_Stop!_" The policewoman's eyes widened. That was Ryu's voice! With a burst of speed, she reached the door on the far side of the room. Then, flattening herself up against the adjoining wall, she peered carefully around it.

There. A large group of the attackers, six of them in the hallway, all of them with their guns trained on a single doorway. A cold feeling settled in her stomach. That was Yun and Yang's room. And she could sense who else was in there.

Abruptly, the sound of gunfire rang out from inside the room, bullets chewing up the hallway wall. Then, a moment later, the limp body of one of the commandos crashed through the wall, flying headfirst out of the boys' room and into the hallway. And at the same time she began to sense the massive, dark power of the Satsui no Hado beginning to build higher and higher from inside...

_Not good!_ Throwing caution to the winds, she charged out into the hallway. She was on the first commandos before they could react, grabbing one's head and slamming her knee into it so hard that the man's facemask shattered. From there she lashed out with the same leg at a different target, savaging him with her Hyakuretsu Kyaku—countless lightning-fast kicks striking over the space of a second.

Further down the hallway, the other soldiers swung their assault rifles to bear, opening fire on her. Chun-li swung the unconscious body of the man she'd kneed in front of her, using his armored body as a shield as she lunged sideways, slamming her shoulder into the adjoining wall with all her might.

She plowed through the wall and into the room beyond, splintered wood falling all around her. She was now out of sight of the soldiers in the hallway—but even as she fell she saw that there were two more enemies searching the very room she had so suddenly entered.

Chun-li twisted her fall into a roll, coming in low and fast at her foes. As she came out of the roll she planted her palms on the floor, swinging her leg around in a sweep that took one soldier's legs out from under him. Then she swung her leg back, kicking the falling man in the chest and propelling him on a collision course his partner.

But the other commando was too fast. He lunged sideways, dodging the flying body, and opened fire on Chun-li. Channeling her ki to the utmost extent she could manage, she dodged, her form all but vanishing as a hail of bullets cut through the space she had occupied an instant before.

The man tried to track her movement with his gun, but she closed with him long before he could manage it. She caught his wrist in mid-motion, twisting him into an armlock before ruthlessly breaking the limb and then slamming the man's head into the floor.

She was breathing hard—that desperate, superhuman dodge had taken a good deal out of her. But already she could hear booted feet running up the hallway, almost at the door to the room. Gritting her teeth with the effort, she cupped her hands in front of her, forming a glowing blue sphere of energy between her them. Then she waited for just a moment, timing the approach of the footsteps.

_"Kikkoken!"_ she shouted, as she hurled the attack. The ki projectile blazed out from her hands, tearing straight through the wall and into the running soldier on the other side, detonating spectacularly. The building shook with the force of the blast, as it shredded the surrounding walls with its shockwave.

Chun-li wobbled, weakened momentarily from her exertions, leaning against the nearby wall to try and catch her breath. But before she could begin to gather herself, a commando appeared in the hole her Kikkoken had made, gun at the ready.

_No!_ she thought desperately. _One of them escaped the blast!_ She knew she was in no condition to dodge bullets now, and there was no time to make an attack. There was nothing she could do to stop him from firing...

And then a small, bare foot connected sharply with the commando's head from behind, snapping it forward. At the same time, another foot snaked in low, striking at the man's leg and driving him down to one knee.

Yun and Yang launched themselves at the blindsided commando, their fists and feet striking over and over again as they manhandled him. Yun kept up a blazing offensive, scoring hit after hit, while Yang focused on setting their foe up and keeping the gun out of play. Within a few seconds, their combined efforts had beaten their foe to the ground.

"Yun! Yang!" Chun-li ran over to where they stood, emotions torn between pride and fear after seeing what they had done. She quickly looked up and down the hallway, but there was no sign of any other soldiers on this level. Not that that meant much, shielded from her senses as these soldiers were. They could be hiding anywhere.

"Chun-li!" Yang blurted in reply, anxiety clearly written in his features. "You gotta help Ryu! There's something wrong with him!"

* * *

Outside, Gen and Bison had begun to circle each other, walking slowly, each man appraising the other for signs of weakness. The surrounding soldiers looked on, unsure of what to do. Their guns were in their hands, ready to be used at a moment's notice, but Gen displayed no sign that he regarded them as any kind of threat. And their master was ignoring their presence entirely, focused only on his opponent.

Then Bison made the first move. He raised a hand, and from it launched a huge blast of corrupted ki. The dark attack hurtled toward Gen, crackling with destructive force.

Immediately Gen burst into motion, running directly toward the oncoming attack. He leaned forward as he did so, until he was running with his body almost parallel with the ground, as Bison's blast scorched through the air above him with inches to spare. Then he leaped into the air, shooting toward Bison in a flying kick that scythed through the air toward the side of the madman's head.

Bison's eyes narrowed, and Gen's kick smashed harmlessly into a barrier of energy a full foot away from its target. Gen twisted as he dropped to the ground, spinning into a double punch, but that was deflected in the same way.

The crime lord reached out with his hand, trying to grab Gen by the throat, but the old man was too fast, slipping around the attempt to launch a flurry of strikes at Bison's back. These were deflected off the shield as well, and Bison retaliated with a spin kick that Gen was forced to duck.

The two backed away from each other, resuming their circling.

* * *

Chun-li raced into Yun and Yang's room, drawing up short at what she saw. Ryu was standing there, holding a cowering soldier against the wall by the throat. The sense of the Satsui no Hado permeated the room, a terrible, crushing presence that hung in the air like a toxic cloud.

"Ryu...?" Chun-li said, quietly. "Ryu, let him go." She saw the young man's fingers tighten slightly in reply, drawing a choked sob from the commando as he struggled to draw each breath.

Slowly Ryu turned his head, looking back at her, and as he did so she saw that his eyes were now smoldering with crimson energy. "Stay out of my way," he snarled.

Slowly, carefully, Chun-li took another step toward him. "Ryu, please," she said. "You know you don't want to do this."

"You don't know what I want..." Ryu hissed, tightening his grip even more.

Chun-li took another step toward him. "I know that if you really wanted to kill him, he'd be dead already. Don't lose yourself like this, Ryu."

Ryu shuddered at the words, his face twisting into a deep frown as he turned away from the policewoman. She could tell that his soul was even now balanced on a razor's edge, with the slightest breath able to push it one way or another. His grip on the soldier tightened to the point where the man could not breathe at all, causing him to claw desperately at the hand that was crushing his windpipe.

At last, Chun-li spoke again. "Ryu," she said, filling her voice with every ounce of authority she had gained from her years with Interpol. "Let him go."

Everything froze for a single, heart-stopping moment, and she began to wonder if she had pushed too hard. But then, with a sudden motion, Ryu hurled the commando away, sending the man flying into a nearby wall, which he ricocheted off of and crumpled to the ground. Immediately after doing so Ryu slumped to his knees, his whole frame trembling violently as he curled himself up into a ball.

Chun-li went to him, quickly, laying a hand on his shoulder. "It's all right," she said, soothingly. "It's all right. Just relax. It's going to be all right."

But even as she spoke the words, she could hear them being put to lie. Heavy footsteps echoed through the ceiling above her, heading for the stairs that led down to their level. _The group from above..._ she realized. _They must have been in radio contact with the ones down here._

The policewoman rose to her feet. "Ryu," she said, urgently. "You need to get out of here, as fast as you can."

Ryu lifted his head, looking at her with haunted eyes, and Chun-li realized how hard this would be for him. One half of him wanted nothing more than to slake its thirst for blood and carnage, while the other half rebelled at the thought of leaving his friends behind. Before he could say anything, she continued. "Take Yun and Yang with you. Get them to safety. I'll cover your back."

The footsteps were on the stairs now; the soldiers would be there within seconds. Ryu hesitated, then gave a small, brief nod. He rose shakily to his feet, then turned to the boys. "Let's... let's go," he said, indicating the direction he wanted them to move in.

The three left the room, moving as quickly as they could, although Ryu was still drained from his struggle. He led Yun and Yang down the hallway, away from the main entrance, and into a room on the far side of the building. The twins exchanged worried glances, before Yun finally spoke up. "Um... Ryu, sir? There's... no door here..."

Ryu did not respond, only hurried grimly onward. He flinched as the sounds of battle sprang up from behind them—machine gun fire and heavy crashes. Chun-li had engaged the enemy. For a moment he hesitated, seeming as though he might turn back, but then his face hardened and continued to lead the boys forward.

Soon they reached the wall he had been aiming for. He took a deep breath, spending many precious seconds trying to calm himself, to prepare himself for the next step. After he had waited as long as he dared, he settled back into a stance, cupping his hands at his sides.

Only then did he respond to the boys' concern. "There's no door," he agreed, as dark red energy began to coalesce between his palms. "Yet."

* * *

Waves of dark power surged out from Bison's hands, carving deep furrows in the earth as they bore down on their target. But none of them struck home. Gen's aged form flowed like water around his opponent's attacks, even as he unleashed his Hyakurenkou on his adversary. Something savage entered the old man's eyes as he rained down countless ki-enhanced strikes on his foe's defenses.

Bison clenched his teeth, a slight degree of strain beginning to show on his face. His shield was flashing and sparking under the old master's constant, devastating barrage. But even under the withering assault it showed no signs of buckling.

Suddenly, the crime lord dropped into a crouch, then exploded forward toward Gen with blinding speed. As he flew, his entire body was enveloped in a blistering corona of purple energy.

"_Psycho Crusher!_"

Gen had to leap sideways to avoid the torpedo-like attack. He dodged it successfully—but it was a near thing. The Psycho Crusher carried Bison past Gen, and a good distance farther before the crime lord halted the attack. Then he turned back to face Gen, who immediately realized that the technique had been a ploy to gain distance.

"I will give credit where it is due," said Bison, a grudging smile crossing his face. "The stories told of you were not exaggeration."

Gen only raised an eyebrow. "Do you intend to talk or fight?" he asked, irritation filling his voice.

Bison opened his mouth to reply, but never got the words out. Both men were abruptly distracted as they sensed a huge ki spike. A split-second later the sound of an explosion rent the air, coming from the opposite side of the building. The earth shook from the shockwave, throwing most of the soldiers to the ground.

"Clever," Bison hissed, his own balance not affected in the slightest. "Trying to make your escape along a path that avoids me. Clever, but futile..."

And then, with a mere thought, his form blurred into nothingness, vanishing from sight.

* * *

The Shinkuu Hadoken had taken out a large chunk of the building's east wall, and blown a crater into the ground outside. The bodies of the soldiers who had been guarding that part of the perimeter now lay strewn about, either unconscious or dead. Ryu forced his thoughts away from that realization; he knew if he let his mind slip in that direction, even for a moment, it would destroy him utterly.

Instead, the young man poured every thought into escape. He grabbed both boys, holding one under each arm as he sprinted out into the yard. He ran as fast as he could, preparing himself to jump the wall that encircled the compound.

And then, without warning, the air in front of him blurred and a red-clad figure materialized in his path.

Instinctively, Ryu skidded to a stop. The figure's lips twisted into a smile, watching him with eyes that glowed with purple light.

Then Bison spoke. "So, Ryu," he said. "At last we meet face to face."


	19. Devastation

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Street Fighter in any way, shape or form. It and all associated characters, trademarks, etc. are owned by Capcom. I'm just telling some stories about them.

* * *

Chapter Nineteen: Devastation

China, March 16

Even as she watched Ryu lead Yun and Yang away, Chun-li's mind was already analyzing the situation from every angle.

_At least ten men total,_ she thought, listening to the footsteps. _And no element of surprise this time. They know I'm here. Worse, I already used a good bit of my strength taking out the first group. This... isn't going to be easy. I just hope I can buy enough time for Ryu and the boys to get clear._

Then she glanced down at one of the unconscious bodies nearby. _Time for a change in tactics._

Quickly she knelt down, flipping the prone man over. She picked up his assault rifle, already planning how best to use it. But she wanted something lighter as well—the rifle would be too cumbersome for much of what she was planning. And there, on his belt...

The footsteps were almost on her, but slowing down as they approached the bodies of their fallen allies. They were cautious now, the approaching ones doubtless covered by their teammates further down the hall as they made their careful approach.

Grimly aware that every second counted, Chun-li unholstered the small arms weapon the man had been equipped with—a Glock 22 with some custom modifications. She pulled back the gun's slide, checking the cartridge in the chamber, then slowly slid it back into position with a small click. It would have to do.

She rummaged through some of the pouches attached to the commando's belt, and found his spare pistol magazines on the second try. She slid them into the white sash around her waist. Even as she did so, two pairs of footsteps were drawing closer and closer to the room's door. Quietly she leveled both her guns at the sounds, tracking their approach along the blank wall. Five feet until they reached the doorway. Then three. Then one.

She opened fire with the assault rifle one-handed, emptying the magazine through the wall at the soldiers on the other side. It wouldn't be enough to take them down—not with their armor, and certainly not after going through the wall as well—but they would definitely feel it.

With that, she tossed aside the larger gun. Then she was moving in a burst of speed, staying low to the ground as she dove out into the hallway in a somersault. The soldiers by the door were still reeling from the bullets they had taken, but several bursts of fire came from down the hall, chewing up the floor in a vain and belated attempt to track her movement.

She came out of her roll into a one-arm handstand, swinging a leg up under the chin of one of the nearby commandos. The force of the kick lifted him bodily into the air, snapping his head back and embedding it into the hallway wall.

At the same time, her free hand was already firing the handgun. She squeezed off four shots in rapid succession, each one aimed at the facemask of a different assailant. The four targets staggered backward, some crumpling to their hands and knees—again the armor had stopped the bullets, but the impact alone had stunned them for precious moments.

Chun-li came out of her cartwheel to land in a crouch pressed against the far wall, taking cover behind the limp, hanging form of the soldier she had just kicked. She continued to shoot down the hallway with frightening speed and accuracy, suppressing virtually all return fire.

The other nearby commando, meanwhile, had recovered, and tried to swing his assault rifle to target her. Chun-li caught hold of the barrel in mid-swing, immobilizing it. Then in one smooth motion she twisted it out of the man's hands and spun to slam the butt of the weapon hard into his gut. The soldier doubled over, gasping for breath, only to have the policewoman hit him with the rifle butt again, this time smashing it across his jaw. The blow sent him spinning through the air to the ground.

The commandos down the hallway were already starting to regroup, and Chun-li knew she had no time to spare. She ducked back into the cover of her doorway, continuing her suppression fire as she went, both her pistol and her newly acquired rifle blazing away simultaneously at any foes that tried to show their face.

Suddenly there was a familiar spike of ki from behind her, and a split-second later the earth shook with a massive detonation. _That'd be Ryu, making his exit,_ Chun-li thought, wishing him and the boys luck.

It had certainly been good luck for her. She had kept her footing, but most of the already-beleaguered commandos had been thrown to the ground. She took the opportunity to charge the nearest group before any of them realized what was happening.

In less than a second she had reached her targets, a pair of commandos taking cover in a doorway in the left wall, still in the process of climbing to their feet. They each tried to raise their weapons to fire, but Chun-li was on them too quickly, her legs flashing between the two of them in an impossible-to-follow flurry of kicks. She smashed both their guns in the first barrage, sending both of them into retreat, with the policewoman in close pursuit.

The pair reacted quickly and in unison—one jumping back and going for his pistol, while the other whipped out his knife and lunged at Chun-li with a slash. Chun-li tossed aside her rifle—the magazine was exhausted anyway—and caught the commando's knife hand in a wristlock, using her leverage to fling him into a nearby wall.

The other commando had drawn his weapon now, but Chun-li was faster, emptying the last of her own pistol's clip into him before he could get so much as a shot off. He reeled backward, even as she kicked his partner straight through the wall she had just thrown him into. Then, before he could recover, she leapt toward him in a handspring that brought her leg arcing down in an axe kick.

"_Sen'en Shuu!_"

The force of the blow drove the commando into the floor, creating large spiderweb cracks in the wood around the point of impact.

Chun-li rose back to her feet, breathing a little heavily, but not otherwise impaired. Quickly she ejected the clip from her pistol. Then she pulled a new one from her sash, slammed it in, and chambered a round. She frowned as she did so, moving cautiously toward the doorway that led back to the hall. Where were the other soldiers? She had expected them to be coming to their squadmates' aid, but she could hear no approaching footsteps. Why were they hanging back?

Then the sound of a small object flying through the air reached her ears, followed by the sound of it bouncing along the hallway floor, coming to rest not far from the door to the room she was in.

_Grenade._

Chun-li turned and ran. She didn't know what type of grenade it was, nor the length of its fuse, nor how many seconds the thrower had waited before betraying his intentions by tossing it. All she knew was that she had to get far away very fast.

She raced toward one of the windows at the far end of the room, her best hope. Everything she had, she put into speed. Inside of her, a little mental timer was counting each fraction of a second that went by. She reached the windows and didn't slow down—leaping shoulder first at it.

Her body crashed through the glass, curling into a ball as it did so to protect against the shower of broken shards that were flying through the air with her.

And then the grenade detonated in a huge, consuming fireball. It tore through the surroundings, blowing out every window in the vicinity and engulfing everything in blistering flame.

* * *

Slowly, Ryu backed away from the cloaked figure, clutching tightly to the twins under his arms as he tried feverishly to resist the dark urges boiling inside him. The pressure was immense; the mere sensation of Bison's power bearing down on him was almost enough to send him into a killing frenzy.

Out of the corner of his eye, Ryu could see that some of the surviving soldiers that had been stationed outside were closing in on him as well. The trapped feeling increased. He needed to get out of here, he needed to escape, before he completely lost every shred of his sanity...

Then suddenly, the sound of an explosion came from the side of the building to his left, followed by the duller roar of a blazing inferno. _No! Chun-li!_ Ryu thought desperately, whirling to look in that direction—even though he could see nothing from where he stood. _If she's been hurt... If she's been killed..._

But no, he could sense her presence still, causing a wave of cold relief to wash over him.

And then Bison's chuckle reminded him of his own situation. "So... The little Interpol agent is important to you, it seems. How touching."

Ryu turned back to face Bison, his face hardening. "Get out of my way," he said quietly. "You have no idea what you're dealing with."

"Quite the contrary, boy," Bison replied. "I have gone to extreme lengths to know _exactly_ what I'm dealing with."

The confident tone in the crime lord's voice sent a shiver down Ryu's spine, but he did not let it show in his face or his voice. "Then leave. Now. If you know what I'm capable of, then you know that you aren't powerful enough to stop me. If you force me to fight, I _will_ kill you."

At that Bison laughed—a long, loud laugh. "By saying that," he told Ryu, "you only prove yourself ignorant of the true scope of this conflict. You cannot threaten the master of the Psycho Drive with death. Even if you _were_ to destroy this body it would be of little consequence—a minor setback well worth incurring."

Now the crime lord began to advance, closing in on the retreating Ryu like a predator stalking its prey. As he did so, his warped purple aura began to build, its strength increasing every second, with no sign of stopping. "Not to mention," he snarled, "that you are very gravely mistaken if you think that I have yet employed more than a _small fraction of the power at my command!_"

Ryu's throat tightened as Bison approached, the boy's hands clenching until he could feel blood trickling down his palms from where the nails dug into his flesh. He was teetering on the edge of losing all control, and getting closer with each step Bison took. He needed to get out of there, he needed to escape, but there was no way out. Bison smiled, raising his hand toward Ryu, dark energy crackling around it, begging to be released...

"_Zan'ei!_"

A nearly-invisible blur shot across Ryu's vision, slamming into Bison. The crime lord only barely managed to erect a shield in time, the energy discharge from the impact painting the whole scene with a lurid purple glow as it flickered and crackled. Bison staggered back, trying to gather himself, but Gen continued the assault with a storm of strikes and kicks that beat on Bison's defenses with merciless fury.

Bison managed a few counterattacks, attempting to regain the initiative, but it was like trying to grasp smoke. Gen was everywhere and nowhere, his vicious assault continuing relentlessly. As he struggled to follow Gen's movements, Ryu realized that the old master's eyes were now glowing with the same red light that had been in Akuma's eyes when he had used the Satsui no Hado.

_Neither of them are holding back now..._ thought Ryu.

Then he shook himself out of the trance that he had been in. There was no time for this. He had to get the boys away from danger—and get himself away from this temptation to indulge his deadly desires.

A glance over his shoulder confirmed that the approaching soldiers had almost reached them. They seemed at a loss for what to do with the situation before them, but Ryu didn't intend to give them any opportunity regardless. Tightening his grip on the boys, he launched himself forward in a blur of speed, clearing the compound wall with an easy jump and disappearing into the night.

* * *

Chun-li hit the ground hard, but still managed to use her momentum to roll up to one knee. Her breath was coming in gasps. Her whole body was covered with cuts from the glass shards. She had sustained agonizing burns, particularly on her legs and forearms.

But she was alive.

For the moment. There were two commandos stationed outside the building, no doubt there to keep anyone from escaping in that direction. Before they could react she had whipped up her pistol, leveling it at the nearest one and pulling the trigger.

With a loud clicking noise, the weapon jammed. Chun-li swore under her breath. _Damaged in the explosion!_

Changing her tactics, she gave the gun a quick flip in her hand, grabbing it by the barrel and hurling it at her target. Then she sprang forward, closing the distance between them at a dead sprint.

She let out a satisfied hiss as her improvised projectile caught the commando between the eyes, snapping his head back and knocking him off-balance. Gunfire from the other soldier tore up the ground behind her blurred form, as she hurtled toward her target.

She moved in tight, keeping the nearest soldier between her and the shooter. A strike to the side of the man's head sent him stumbling away, and she followed closely with a second, and a third, alternating hands with each blow, battering him senseless.

Farther off, she could see a third commando rounding the building's corner, coming to the aid of his squadmates. Grabbing the nearby soldier by the collar of his armor to hold him upright, she reached toward one of the pouches at his belt that looked promising, and ripped it wide open.

Another grenade fell out, tumbling down toward the ground. Chun-li didn't bother with the pin; she simply kicked it toward the shooters. Then, pulling the commando's pistol from his belt and sighting over the man's shoulder, she fired a single shot.

The bullet struck the incendiary grenade just as it reached the two commandos, causing it to detonate in a massive wreath of flame.

She took a moment to grimly survey her handiwork, then she released her hold on the unconscious commando, dropping him to the ground. And at that point, she would have liked nothing more than to follow him to the ground herself. She was spent. Her every breath came in a shudder; her every movement was an agony.

The roar of the flames was dull in her ears, as the tongues of fire hungrily licked their way up toward the sky. She could feel the searing heat even from this distance. Glancing over at the building, she saw that more than half of the west wall was now engulfed by the blaze.

For a moment, she was transfixed by it. The building had been a part of her past—a part with mixed emotions attached to it, to be sure, but an important part nonetheless. She had learned in that building, had worked there, fought there, even shed tears there, in the night, when no one had been watching and she had felt the emptiness of her father's absence.

It was a part of her. And now it was being destroyed, yet another casualty to Bison's ambitions.

Then she shook it off, bringing herself back to the here and now. She needed to figure out her next move. Wearily, she reached out with her senses, searching...

_There!_ Thankfully, Ryu and the boys already seemed to have made their escape, but she could sense Master Gen's presence behind her, locked in combat with another presence of overwhelming power.

_Bison._

Forcing the pain from her mind by sheer strength of will, Chun-li turned around and began to run toward the combat. _Bison..._ she thought as she ran. _You won't escape this time. You can't. For my father, for every life you've destroyed, I will fight you with every last measure of strength I have, until my dying breath. I won't let you win._

She continued on, half-running, half-stumbling, the sounds of the battle growing louder and louder in her ears. It was not just that she was drawing closer—the pitch of the battle itself was mounting dramatically with each second that passed. She pushed herself harder and harder, until finally she rounded the corner of the building and saw the confrontation that was being played out.

Bison had taken to the air, hovering high above the battlefield and raining destruction down upon it. Gen was forced to jump to reach him—and in midair his ability to avoid Bison's blasts was diminished. He had taken several hits, and now seemed to be favoring his left leg slightly.

Three of the remaining soldiers were gathered there, watching anxiously from a distance as the old man clashed again and again with their master. Waves of dark energy crackled and flashed from Bison, constantly seeking out Gen—and on occasion, finding him.

Chun-li drew in a sharp breath, then raised the gun she had taken from the last commando. Taking cover around the corner of the building, she braced it against the wooden structure, taking careful aim.

Then she emptied the clip at her nemesis.

Bison did not turn to face her, only raised a hand in her direction. The bullets deflected harmlessly against his shield in a shower of sparks. Then, with a flick of the same hand, he sent a huge ki blast in her direction.

Chun-li dove headlong for cover, even as the ki blast struck the corner of the building behind her. The explosion showered her in splinters of wood.

She struggled back to her feet, propping herself up against the building's side, trying to think of a plan. But none was forthcoming. She slowly made her way along the wall, peering around the blasted-out corner to see Gen airborne once again, battering Bison's shield with his Gekirou.

Time seemed to slow as Chun-li watched the exchange, a sick feeling welling up in her stomach. Bison rode out Gen's attack, allowing it to push him higher in the air from the force of the kicks. A look of growing annoyance was written across his features.

Gen used his final kick to push off of Bison, propelling himself back toward earth in a fast, corkscrewing motion that made him difficult to target. But Bison was not even trying to attack. Instead, he was charging his power, a glowing locus of dark energy forming in the palm of his hand. By the time Gen's feet touched ground, the ki charge had reached spectacular proportions. Even from where she stood, Chun-li could feel—could taste—the air crackling with tainted energy.

Gen looked upward, facing his opponent once more. For a moment they simply stood there, eyes locked. Then Bison spoke.

"Now, old man," he said, his body backlit by the blinding flashes of ki. "I have a lesson for you. You have shown me your training and your skill. Now observe—the raw application of _power!_"

At the words, Gen burst into motion, blurring across the ground, speeding away from the building and toward the far reaches of the gardens. Chun-li frowned, clenching her fists in anxiety, trying to figure out what Gen was planning. She couldn't see how he planned to counter something that overwhelming, and she certainly didn't understand how running that way was going to help him—indeed, it was only taking him closer into Bison's range...

Then, in a horrible realization that caused her heart to skip a beat, she understood.

Gen didn't have a way to overcome the inhuman force that Bison was amassing. This last, desperate flight wasn't part of any plan for victory on his part, or even of escape. It was for one thing, and one thing alone.

He was trying to draw the focus of the attack away from Chun-li.

"Master!" she screamed out, her voice raw. She was beyond caring who heard. "_Master!_"

And then, Bison hurled down the attack.

Its final impact point was over forty yards away, and still Chun-li was knocked off her feet by the force of the detonation. The blast lit up the night like a second sun, tearing a crater in the surface of the earth. The shockwave ripped up trees up by their roots, sending dirt and rock flying through the air.

Desperately, Chun-li crawled back to her hands and knees. She looked out over the scene of devastation, searching for any sign of Gen—until at last, she caught sight of him. His broken body was lying twisted on the ground, between two felled trees, unmoving.

A small sob wrenched itself from her throat, as she rose to her feet. She was shaking—whether from anger or grief she did not know. A single tear spilled down her face. "Master Gen..." she whispered.

A harsh laugh interrupted her, and she craned her head to see Bison looking down at her. "And now there remains only one..." he said, his voice laced with contempt. "Do you wish to try me as well, little girl?"

Hearing the words, Chun-li's features steeled themselves into a hard mask. Then, slowly, she stepped back into a fighting stance.

Bison snorted. "Foolish little thing."

Chun-li ignored him. For years now, her entire life had been dedicated to reaching this moment—this very moment. She was standing in front of the man who had killed her father, looking him in the eye, facing him in combat.

She knew that this man—this _being_—had just defeated her master, someone she had never been able to win against even once. She knew that she was barely standing as it was, battered, burnt and bleeding. She knew that he could call on all the remnant of his soldiers in addition, a force she had little hope of winning against in her condition.

None of it mattered. She looked directly into her foe's glowing eyes, and there was no fear in her gaze. She had made her choice—made it all those years ago when she had first decided to hunt Bison. And she would make it again in a heartbeat, even knowing it would bring her here.

Taking a deep breath, she surged forward, putting every last ounce of strength she had behind this attack. She hurtled toward him, leaping into the air as she drew near.

"_Hyakuretsu Kyaku!_"

Chun-li's leg began to blur, almost vanishing from sight as it lashed out countless times with blinding speed. She soared toward Bison, her kicks tearing through the air ahead of her. She braced herself for impact as she reached him—

—and then, without warning, Bison's form blurred and vanished from sight.

_Teleportation!_ she thought, desperately trying to think of a counter. But in mid-leap, there was none. She sensed Bison rematerializing directly behind her, and there was no time to do anything to prepare. There was a spike of ki, and she felt a blast slam into her back, flinging her forward through the air.

And then there was nothing.

* * *

Bison stood over Chun-li's unconscious form, looking down at it with an unreadable expression on his face. After a few moments, he glanced up, his gaze sweeping the horizon as he reached out, trying to detect any sign of Ryu's presence. But his efforts met with failure—the boy was too far away, and was masking himself too well.

"Escaped." The word was heavy with distaste, and the commandos nearby that heard it quailed.

Then the crime lord looked down once more at the young woman lying at his feet. "And yet..." he said. "Perhaps this is fortunate, in its own way. It presents an interesting opportunity."

Reaching down, he grabbed Chun-li and flung her limp form over his shoulder. "Yes..." he said, as he began to walk toward his waiting helicopters. "An interesting opportunity indeed..."


	20. When All Hope Dies

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Street Fighter in any way, shape or form. It and all associated characters, trademarks, etc. are owned by Capcom. I'm just telling some stories about them.

* * *

Chapter Twenty: When All Hope Dies

China, March 16

Jiang Yaozu, officer of the Chinese People's Armed Police, was in the middle of filling out an expense report when he was interrupted by a loud pounding on the door of the station.

The middle-aged, rail-thin man looked up and checked the wall clock, surprised. It was close to midnight—the graveyard shift. Not a time that many chose to pay a visit to the police—not without serious cause.

Quickly he rose to his feet, his report forgotten. He left his office and ran down the hallway, even as the urgent hammering continued. At last he came in view of the main door, and saw through the glass who was making the racket.

A young man stood outside the station, Japanese by the look of him, dressed in normal street wear. There were two young, pajama-clad boys close by, one on either side of him. The man continued to pound on the door frame as the policeman drew near. "Open the door!" he demanded in heavily accented Chinese.

Yaozu moved over to the door, opening it up. Immediately, the Japanese man shoved the two boys inside. "Hide them," he rasped.

The officer blinked. "Wait a second. What's going—?"

"_Hide them!_" the young man snarled, with a ferocity that caused Yaozu to jerk back in shock. Had it just been his imagination, or had a flash of red light crossed the young man's eyes just then?

For a strained moment the only sound was the young man's breathing, heavy through his clenched teeth. Then, slowly, he spoke again. "There was... an attack. By Shadowlaw," he said. "Soldiers, helicopters, and... more. Much more. The boys were witnesses. They'll be in danger."

Yaozu regarded the unstable-looking young man with suspicion, very much wishing that he had his revolver on him. "All right, let's just calm down now," he said placatingly, reaching out his hand toward the young man's shoulder. "Why don't you come in and—"

"Don't. Touch. Me." the young man bit out, each word dripping with threat. Yaozu swallowed hard, then nodded, backing away.

"Ryu, sir?" One of the two boys had spoken, looking worriedly up at their protector. "What about Master Gen and Chun-li? Will they be okay? That man who was fighting them..." the boy broke off in a shudder at the memory.

A stricken look crossed Ryu's face, displacing the simmering rage for a moment. He slowly knelt down in front of the two boys. "I... don't know," he said, his voice rough and halting. "I wish... I really wish I could tell you. But I just don't know. I don't know anything anymore."

"Can't you help them fight?" asked the other boy, pleading.

For a moment, Ryu hesitated. And when he finally spoke, there was a lifetime's worth of shame and regret in his words. "No. I... can't."

Suddenly his head jerked up, his eyes focusing off into the distance. "Ryu?" one of the boys asked. "What is it?"

"Bison..." Ryu murmured. "His presence. It's... leaving."

There was a brief silence. Then one of the boys spoke up. "Leaving?" he asked. "But then, what happened to...?"

Before the boy could finish the question, Ryu shot to his feet, and disappeared in a burst of speed.

* * *

Ryu ran for all he was worth, his feet pounding against the paved street with inhuman velocity. Darkened houses flew by on either side, their shapes nothing more than blurs, their windows rattling in the wake of his passing. He sped onward, never slowing, never tiring, never deviating from his course.

It was less than a minute before he began to make out the orange glow that was rising from the direction of Gen's compound. The thought of what that meant pushed him to even greater speed.

Soon he arrived at the gates of the compound itself—and drew up short at what he saw. The main building was engulfed in flames, filling the air with a choking heat. Ryu vaulted over the outer wall, and dashed into the interior yard. "Chun-li!" he yelled. "Master Gen! _Chun-li!_"

There was no reply. Ryu moved further in, toward the burning structure, searching with all his senses for signs of life. But he found nothing. Each passing second saw him grow more and more desperate, but at the same time more and more at a loss as to what he could do.

And then he felt something. A presence. Almost imperceptible, barely above a flicker—but it was alive.

He ran toward it, praying that he was not too late. He rounded the corner of the burning building at full tilt, and sprinted for the ruins of the garden. And as his destination came into view, he saw who it was that he had sensed.

Master Gen lay there in front of him, broken and bloody. Ryu slowed as he approached, kneeling down on the ground beside him, examining his injuries as best as he could with the light provided by the inferno behind him.

And the injuries were horrible. Ryu was amazed that Gen had survived this long, and he could tell that at this point the old master was hanging on to life only by his immense skill in ki manipulation, and his sheer willpower. And even that would not last much longer.

As Ryu tried to think of something he could do, Gen's eyes opened slightly, focusing on him with a great effort. "Ryu..." he managed to croak out, each word a struggle. "I knew... you would come... The boys... are they all right?"

Ryu nodded. "Yes. They're both safe."

"Good..." There was a small note of relief in Gen's voice. "Fine students... both of them... They'll... do well for themselves..." A fit of wet coughing wracked him.

The young man waited until Gen had regained control of himself, then asked the question that was gnawing at him. "What happened, Master Gen?" he asked. "Where's Chun-li?"

"Gone..." was Gen's reply. "She's gone. Taken... by Bison..."

Ryu rocked back on hearing that, as though struck, while Gen continued. "He... must mean to use her... to get at you. As a bargaining chip... or as bait. Either way... drawing you to him."

The young man didn't reply, staring off into the distance, a haunted look on his face. After a few moments, Gen spoke again. "I... was only your teacher... for a day, Ryu. But... even if only for a day... if you consider that bond... the bond of master and disciple... to be worth anything... then allow me to ask this of you... as your teacher." The old man took a deep, shuddering breath, then went on. "Fight for her."

"_What?_" The request shocked Ryu, snapping him out of his thoughts. "But there's... there's no way I can face someone like him! Not without turning into another Akuma!"

"Then... what you must ask... yourself..." replied Gen. "Is this. Which... would be worse? Another Akuma... hunting only the few in this world... who are truly strong? Or a creature... like Bison?"

"I..." The magnitude of what Gen was asking staggered Ryu. "I'm not..."

"What... you are..." Gen interrupted. "What... _we_ are... you and I... is what we have made ourselves into. We made the choice... the bargain... darkness for power..."

"But Chun-li... is different. Not like us. Her art... her soul... is still clean. Pure." Another coughing fit wracked Gen, and it was several seconds before he continued. "You... you should have seen it, Ryu... Seen it... like I could in her... as her master. The potential she had... and still has. She could have been... the greatest I ever trained... could have even surpassed me one day... even without the Satsui no Hado..."

Then Gen shook his head, the movement barely perceptible. "But no. Always... it was Bison dominating her thoughts. Always her... greater mission. She would never... devote herself fully to the Art... never realize... all that I knew she was capable of..."

"I tried... to influence her otherwise. But in the end... I only succeeded... in influencing her to leave my training behind. Was I... right to insist? I do not know. Many things... seem less clear to me now... as I lie here dying... than they did before..."

"And yet... one thing I do know," Gen focused his gaze into Ryu's eyes with laser-like intensity. "Someone like her... untouched... unmarked... should not be sacrificed... without a fight. Better that... she be saved. Even at the cost of monsters like us."

The old master's voice was getting weaker now. "And tell her..." he managed to croak out, his voice barely above a whisper. "Tell her... if you can... that I am proud... of whatever she chooses to accomplish... with the skills I helped her to gain."

Then, having said all that he had intended, Gen relaxed his control over his body, and passed from the world.

For a long moment, Ryu simply sat there, staring at the old master's body. Until, slowly but surely, the full implications of what had just happened began to sink into him. Master Gen, his only remaining hope for learning how to control the dark power growing inside him...

...was dead.

Slowly, numbly, he staggered to his feet. Behind him, the roar of the fire echoed in his ears, as the flame bathed everything in its lurid orange light. His breath was coming short and fast, as he looked this way and that, frantically, but without true purpose. A part of him tried to think, but coherent thought refused to come.

And all the while, the part of him owned by the Satsui no Hado simply laughed. And laughed. And laughed.

With an anguished cry, Ryu whirled away from Gen's body, clutching at his head with both hands. He lurched blindly forward, his every step a stumble, without balance or direction. "_No!_" he screamed to the night air—the scream of a lost soul. "_No, damn it, no!_"

He crumpled to his knees again, hands clenched into fists. "No..." he whispered. "It can't end like this."

_**Such a pathetic denial...**_ his thoughts replied back at him. _**What will you do to stop it? Cower in a hole until Bison's agents locate you? Or until your desire to use the Power overcomes the last few tatters of your resistance?**_

There was nothing he could say in reply. _**You tried to cheat your fate,**_ the voice continued, relentlessly. _**But you failed. You've lost. I've won.**_

"Not yet..." Ryu said, his voice barely audible. "You haven't broken me yet..."

_**And how will you prevent me from doing that?**_ his darker nature answered, unimpressed. _**Your teacher is dead. Your protector is taken. You have a foe hunting you, attacking you at every turn. You are as good as broken already.**_

From his kneeling position, Ryu looked down at his hands. Even as he watched an arc of blood-colored energy crackled across his palms, and then another. _**See your future written there!**_ his thoughts told him. _**Eternal combat! Eternal destruction! Dealing death upon death without end, until at last you are killed by someone greater than yourself. There is no escape left for you! Admit it!**_

"No..." whispered Ryu again. But, unheeding of his plea, the tainted power of the Satsui no Hado continued to build in his hands, wreathing them in red lightning. Desperation and hopelessness crushed at his soul, even as the raging bloodlust inside him beat ceaselessly on the defenses of his mind—demanding release.

_**Admit it!**_ the voice demanded once more. _**Admit what your precious Master Gouken taught you to deny! Admit what you know to be true! Admit that you want nothing more than to KILL ALL THAT STAND AGAINST YOU!**_

Ryu thrust his arms to the heavens, his corrupted ki blazing around them. His face was twisted into a mask of pain and rage, as the fires of murder burned in his blood. And in that moment, all that was human in him seemed nothing more than a candle in the wind.

Then, with a howl, he clenched his hands into fists—and slammed them full-force back into the ground. The dark energy exploded outward from the point of impact, ripping a huge crater in the earth.

For a long time he simply remained there, bowed over, his breath coming in gasps. Until slowly, he raised his head.

"_No._" he growled through clenched teeth, an iron determination filling his every word. "_Not. Just. Yet._"

He laid a hand on the ground, used it to rise unsteadily to his feet. _Maybe I have lost,_ he thought. _Maybe I am as good as broken. But I'm not broken. Not yet._

His gaze swept across his surroundings, at last coming to rest on the burning building. His eyes narrowed grimly, and he began to walk toward it.

With each stride he took, something began to build in him. A sense of... not hope, but purpose. _I can't see a way out of this,_ he admitted. _Not for me. Not anymore. But Chun-li needs my help. And I can still act._

He entered the building through the same gaping hole that his fireball had put into the wall earlier. Inside, thick smoke choked the air and every wall was ablaze. But Ryu strode through the searing heat unaffected.

_For her, I will resist,_ he thought. _For her life, I can hold back the darkness just a little longer. Long enough to get me to Bison. And then..._

But there was no point in dwelling on that. He knew that, one way or another, he was approaching the end of his struggle. And that knowledge gave him strength. If he only had to last a little longer, then he could last under the worst that the corrupted power could bring to bear. And if it meant even a chance at saving Chun-li...

Eventually he reached the bedroom Gen had given him. Part of the ceiling had collapsed, blocking the doorway, but he reached down one-handed and flung the obstruction from his path. Then he entered the room, and moved over to a closet on the far wall.

He opened the closet door. Dropping to his knees, he reached in and pulled out the brown paper parcel that he had carried all the way from Japan.

_So it all comes back to this,_ he thought. _I suppose I knew it would. I suppose I knew all along..._

* * *

It only took him a few minutes to do what he had come to do.

By then the fires of the inferno were burning even hotter, raging around the young man like writhing fingers reaching from hell. Every so often a loud crash could be heard—the building was fast approaching total collapse. But Ryu paid none of it any heed.

He had removed the shoes that Interpol had provided for him, and now stood barefoot on the wooden floor. Over his lower half he wore a pair of simple white pants, while his torso was clad in a white gi—its sleeves torn off.

A black-colored belt was tied firmly around his waist, its ends blowing freely in the updraft from the fire. His fists and forearms were protected by a pair of weathered red fighting gloves. He tightened them both, savoring their familiar fit.

There was only one thing left.

He reached down into the pockets of his discarded street wear, and pulled out the red headband. And for a long, long moment he simply gazed at it, lying there in his hand.

Then he lifted it up, wrapping it around his forehead. His practiced hands tied the knot that he had tied so many times before, securing it with a final yank.

Maybe his doom was inescapable. Maybe he would fall to the Satsui no Hado. Maybe he would spend the rest of his days as a monster.

But if that was his fate, then he would go out fighting for something worthwhile.

One last time.


	21. The Gathering Storm

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Street Fighter in any way, shape or form. It and all associated characters, trademarks, etc. are owned by Capcom. I'm just telling some stories about them.

* * *

Chapter Twenty-One: The Gathering Storm

Japan, March 17

The silence of the makeshift operating room was broken only by the steady, lifeless beeping of the monitors, and the occasional footsteps of the guards outside. There were no windows there, only solid concrete walls and a heavily reinforced door. The only illumination came from the electric lights, which cast the surroundings in a gritty, yellowish hue. All in all, it was hardly the ideal situation in which to take care of a patient.

But for this patient, there were dangers that far outweighed those of his injuries—such as the three separate assassination attempts that had already been made on him.

He lay sleeping in a bed in the center of the room, surrounded by the medical machinery—a huge giant of a man. He was almost unrecognizable, his face a mass of bruises. Both his legs were in casts, as was his left arm, and much of the rest of him was bandaged in one way or another.

A trio of doctors shared the room with him, observing the readouts and discussing amongst themselves in a low murmur. Their quiet tone was an automatic reaction to the unconscious figure, even though intellectually they realized it was unnecessary. Their patient was being kept under enough anesthetic that, even if they had been talking in normal voices, they knew there was no way he would wake up.

Which was why they were so surprised when he did just that.

They didn't notice, at first. All he did for the first few seconds was slowly open his one good eye. With his face as swollen as it was, that change was barely even visible. He looked back and forth across the room, barely moving his head. Then he lifted his gaze to the ceiling, staring for several seconds—as though looking through it at something.

Experimentally, he tried to move his one functional arm—and immediately grimaced in extreme pain. But he ignored that, continuing to lift his hand into his range of vision so that he could examine it.

It was then that one of the doctors realized what was going on. "What the—?" he blurted out. "Look! He's moving!"

The other two turned to look, their faces quickly mirroring their colleague's expression of shock. "The dosage must not be enough," one of them said. "Try increasing it to—"

"No."

The word was barely audible, croaked out softly by the man on the bed, but it stopped all three doctors in their tracks. Taking advantage of the pause, the patient spoke again, his ragged whisper growing a little stronger as he went on. "Leave. Now. I need to be alone."

The doctors exchanged incredulous glances. Then, the one nearest to the anesthetic machine took a step toward it. "I really don't think so," he said as he reached for the controls. "You're in no condition to—"

Faster than the doctor could react, the patient's hand shot out, latching onto the other man's neck and flinging him across the room to collide painfully with the far wall. "Leave!" the injured man growled. "_Now!_"

Wide eyed in disbelief, the doctors slowly obeyed their patient's order, filing out of the room. Soon the last of them had left, and the door clicked shut behind them.

At that, the man in the bed immediately slumped, as he fought to control the pain and vertigo that were threatening to overwhelm him. For a few seconds he remained like that, until finally he regained some measure of his composure. As he did so, he raised his eye once more to look above him. Waiting.

He did not wait long. There was a sudden snapping noise, and then a torrent of purple smoke phased through the ceiling. The shadowy tendrils gathered in the room's far corner—congealing into a figure he knew very well.

"Ryu..." the man murmured, his voice betraying no hint of his emotions.

Even as his form solidified into existence, Ryu staggered, bracing himself against the far wall. For almost a full minute he remained there, hunched over, his breath hissing in and out between his clenched teeth. His right hand slowly lifted, its fingers curling claw-like, only to have his left hand grab it at the wrist, holding it quivering in place.

The injured man said nothing, merely watched impassively as the dark struggle played out before him. Second after second ticked by, until at last, very slowly, Ryu lowered his arms and straightened up. As he did so, the man in the bed met the boy's eyes—and caught a glimpse of the terrible weariness that lay behind them.

"Sagat." It was all the greeting that was given.

The Muay Thai master nodded once, slightly. "And who am I speaking to?" he asked. "The man who tried to avoid battle with me? Or the demon who destroys all that stand in front of him?"

"Something in between."

Sagat regarded him for a moment, then continued. "What is it you want from me, Ryu?"

"I want Bison," the young man answered, without hesitation. "I want you to tell me where I can find him."

Sagat let out his breath in a resigned hiss. "So. It has come to that, has it? You've decided to face him—to pit your power against his." His gaze bored into Ryu's own. "Are you certain this is a wise course of action?"

"As certain as I am of anything anymore," was the response. "I can't run from him forever. This would have happened, sooner or later. And now he's taken someone. Someone I do not intend to let him hurt."

"I see." Sagat's voice was heavy as he said the words. "Then if that is the case... I will lend you what aid I can. Honor demands no less of me."

Something like relief might have flashed across the boy's features—it was difficult to tell. "Do you know where he is?" he asked. "Do you know where I can find him?"

"I do," Sagat answered. "But be warned: it will not be easy to reach. His lair is very far from here."

Ryu shrugged. "Covering distance is no longer a problem for me."

"Yes, so I've seen..." Sagat said, his voice carefully neutral. "However, your new mode of transportation does appear to... exact a cost on your will."

"I will control it," replied Ryu shortly. "For just this much longer... until I reach Bison... I _will_ control it."

Sagat grunted. "Very well. Then bring me that paper. I'll write down everything you'll need."

Ryu crossed the distance to the bed in a few strides, and picked up what the other man was pointing at. In their haste to leave, the doctors had left behind a pen and clipboard with Sagat's patient chart on it. The young man tore out a page from it, then flipped it over, blank side up, and handed the whole clipboard to Sagat.

The Muay Thai master picked up the pen and began to slowly sketch out a series of maps and directions as Ryu watched. "This is the location of Shadowlaw's central command," he said as he wrote. "Hidden deep within the rainforests of Thailand. Most of it is underground, and all the entrances to it are expertly camouflaged."

"I'll find it," said Ryu.

Sagat continued to write in silence for another minute or two, until at last he had copied down all the information he could give. He then took the sheet of paper, and offered it to Ryu.

"This facility is the core of Bison's operation," he said. "Attack it, and you will force the confrontation you are looking for. Even if Bison is not there, you will draw him out to protect it. One way or another, you will face him."

Ryu took the paper and studied it for a long moment. Then he looked back up at Sagat, and nodded. "Thank you," he said, quietly. And with that he turned away, as though to leave.

"Ryu!" Sagat's sharp voice stopped the young man in his tracks. "Listen to me. Whatever you do... don't underestimate Bison. You are powerful. But the power he commands rivals your own. And he's not stupid, Ryu. If he's shown his hand, then you can bet anything that he already has a plan in place to deal with you."

For a moment Ryu simply stood there, silent, Sagat's words hanging in the air between them. Then, without a word, the young man vanished into a blur of purple smoke.

* * *

Thailand, March 17

Consciousness returned slowly to Chun-li. The dull aching of her body was her first awareness, followed by a thick taste in her mouth that a far-off part of her mind groggily associated with chemicals. Slowly, she pried her eyes open, lifting her head to look blearily around her, taking stock of her situation. She was in a dimly lit room, filled with all manner of machinery: computers, display screens, and some devices she didn't even recognize.

She was also manacled, spread-eagle, to the wall.

Without much hope of success, she gave her thick metal bonds a fierce, protracted tug. As expected, they refused to budge. She let out a short hiss of breath. This didn't look good.

"Do not attempt to break free," said a quiet, monotone voice from off to her side. "The restraints are beyond your strength threshold. You will only injure yourself."

Startled, the policewoman turned her head to see who had spoken. It was a young girl, her long blonde hair hanging down on either side of her in a pair of ponytails that reached below her waist. Her arms were crossed behind her back, as she watched Chun-li with an unblinking gaze.

Chun-li met that gaze, and felt a small chill creep down her spine at the dead look she saw in those eyes. She knew all too well what that signified. _That girl is a Doll..._ she thought grimly. _And yet... not one of the twelve that we've ever seen. I wonder..._

She decided to play a hunch. "Killer Bee, I presume?"

"Correct." There was no surprise at Chun-li's identification of her, only a simple statement of fact.

For Chun-li's part, any satisfaction she might have felt at her correct guess was tempered by the confirmation of who her jailor was. Interpol knew essentially nothing about Killer Bee, only that it was a Shadowlaw codename associated with some of the most impossible assassinations on record—each one carried out flawlessly. There were countless conflicting rumors about the identity and exploits of the mysterious Killer Bee, but if even a fraction of them were true, it meant that the girl standing across from her was an extremely deadly foe.

After a few moments, the emotionless girl broke the silence again. "Is there anything you require?" she asked. "My master has instructed me to look after your well-being during your confinement here. I am at your disposal."

Chun-li's face darkened into a frown. "Well, that's very kind," she said. "Not quite what I would have expected from him..."

The Doll paused, apparently thinking through the statement at length before deciding to interpret it as a question. "You are now a part of Lord Bison's plans," she clarified. "As long as that is the case you will be fed, your wounds treated, and any other needs met. You need only inform me."

The policewoman looked down at herself. Killer Bee had told the truth in that, at least. The burns and cuts she had sustained in her recent battle had been expertly tended to. And, from the amount of strength she had recovered, she guessed that she had been here a while. "How long was I out?" she asked her captor.

"It has been almost twenty-four hours since your capture," was the reply.

Which was about what she had figured. That left only one question on Chun-li's mind. "You said that I'm a part of Bison's plan now," she said. "Just _what_ part, exactly?"

Anything Killer Bee might have said in reply was lost, as the sound of grinding machinery cut through their conversation. Then, the control center's massive steel blast doors began to pull slowly apart.

Through the opening stepped Bison himself.

For Chun-li, the moment was almost surreal. Only a handful of feet away from her was the man who had killed her father. The man she was sworn to destroy. She had fought him for years—first as a faceless shadow, encountered only through clashes with his immense organization. Then, at Gen's, she had at last fought him in the flesh. But now he was simply standing there before her—not in sudden combat, but at ease.

And, despite herself, she felt a chill settle in her stomach. His mere presence—the raw power it held—was almost overwhelming, even just walking into a room.

"The modifications to the Drive are holding," he informed Killer Bee, his voice short and clipped. "Send word to all our agents in Shanghai. It is time for them to spread our message." As he spoke, he made his way over to the throne-like chair in the center of the room, and seated himself there.

"Bison!" Chun-li shouted at him, her voice thick with rage.

The crime lord paused, then glanced over his shoulder at her for the first time since entering the room. "Inspector... Chun-li, was it?" he said dispassionately. "I suggest you remain silent while in my presence. If you continue to allow your mouth to run away with you, you may find the remainder of your stay here more unpleasant than is strictly necessary."

The policewoman ignored the threat. She knew there wasn't much she could do from her current position—not yet —but at least she could probe for what Bison intended to do with her. "And just how unpleasant is that?" she asked. "If you want information out of me, you won't get it easily."

That statement caused Bison to let loose a roar of laughter. "Information!" he snorted. "Poor, honest little girl. You have no idea how deep the corruption in your own organization truly runs. There is nothing you could tell me about Interpol that I do not already know far better."

The barb stung Chun-li, but she didn't allow it to show on her face. "If that's really true, then why did you take me prisoner?"

"It has nothing to do with you," answered Bison contemptuously. "Your value to me is nothing more than bait. If I hold you, then you will draw the dragon to me. And then the game will begin in earnest."

His words sent a small chill through her, but she suppressed it. "You mean... Ryu?" she asked. "There's no way that'll work. He knows better than to come after me."

"Does he?" Bison asked. "Perhaps, if he were thinking clearly. But he isn't. I hold someone he cares for, and such vulnerabilities are so easily exploited."

"You must be joking," Chun-li shot back, resisting the urge to swallow. "We only just met a few days ago—we're practically strangers."

"That may be," replied the crime lord, unswayed. "But that was not what I read in his eyes when the grenade explosion almost claimed your life." Then he turned the full force of his gaze on her. "Nor, for that matter, do I think you would be trying so hard to prove yourself useless to me... unless you were afraid that you might not be."

Chun-li's shoulders sagged a little, and she looked away. "You're wrong," she said, although she didn't know who she was really trying to convince—Bison or herself. "He won't risk what fighting again would do to him. He won't come for me."

Bison opened his mouth to reply—but froze, his eyes staring off into the distance. Then, slowly, a smile spread across his features. "No..." he said at last. "No, Inspector, I'm afraid that you're quite wrong.

"He's already here."

* * *

The harsh klaxon blared over and over through the halls of the underground Shadowlaw base, accompanied by the sounds of booted feet running along them. Hundreds of soldiers charged to respond to the alert, snatching up pistols, machine guns, sniper rifles, and even rocket launchers from passing armory stations with military precision.

Hatches to the surface opened up, and the soldiers poured in huge numbers out into the moonlit night. They quickly took up defensive positions, their entire force pointed toward the depths of the forest, in the direction of the reported attack.

And they held there, tense, their senses alert for any sign of movement. Sweat was trickling down their skin inside their heavy tactical armor, as they sighted along their weapons.

And they waited.

Minute after minute passed. The noises of the forest echoed eerily in the oppressive stillness. The soldiers began to shift uneasily, their eyes searching restlessly for the attacker.

Then, in the distance, they saw him. A figure in a white gi, walking through the underbrush toward them.

Instantly, every weapon was trained at him, tracking his movement, ready to fire at a moment's notice. He paid them no mind, altering neither his course nor his speed. Step by step, he continued to close in on them, until at last he stood at the edge of the clearing, regarding them with a stony, impassive face.

Even the soldiers, completely untrained in such matters, could feel that there was something very wrong with the man they faced. An aura of menace that fairly choked the air around him. For a moment, they all stood there, frozen.

Then someone barked an order, and as one, the soldiers opened fire.

* * *

In the control center below, Chun-li watched the large monitor screens in horror. They were displaying what was happening above—and it was nothing less than a slaughter.

Ryu himself could only rarely be seen. But his path was terrifyingly easy to follow, as shattered bodies were flung left and right through the air like rag dolls by an invisible hand. He tore through cluster after cluster of troops like a bullet train hitting a house of cards, ripping them apart effortlessly.

"Magnificent..."

The low murmur caused Chun-li to look over to where Bison sat in his chair. He was watching the monitors over steepled fingers, his teeth bared in a predatory smile. "He is everything I had hoped," the crime lord continued. "Look at him, Inspector! Even now he is employing only the barest fraction of his potential, and _still_ armies fall before him like grass before a scythe."

Chun-li looked at Bison incredulously. "This is insane!" she burst out. "What are you hoping to accomplish with this? They don't stand a chance against him!"

"Of course not," replied Bison. "But then, they were of little enough use to me anyway. If their deaths serve to drive the boy further into his power, then those sacks of meat out there will have served my purposes far better than I ever expected them to."

The last statement took the policewoman aback. "You mean... you _want_ Ryu to use the Satsui no Hado against you?"

Bison said nothing in reply to her question—only widened his smile.

* * *

Ryu launched himself at one of the few surviving groups of soldiers, bearing down on them with a speed far to great for them to have any hope of reacting. As far as he was concerned, they might as well have been frozen in place.

_**Weak.**_

He grabbed the nearest one by the throat, flinging him up into the air before slamming him back down again with earth-shaking force. From there, the boy's leg shot out to the side, catching another soldier in the chest. Ryu felt the snap of bone, as the man's limp body went flying.

_**Fragile.**_

He took to the air, plowing through the heart of their formation with a Tatsumakisenpukyaku. His whirling leg struck countless times with devastating force, flinging the corpses of its victims left and right as he cut a swath through them.

_**Pathetic!**_

One of the bodies collided with the last member of the group, sending him sprawling. With a growl, Ryu reached down and yanked the dead soldier off of the living one. But his enemy made no move to rise. Instead, he simply lay curled on the ground, sobbing desperate pleas in Thai.

Ryu loomed over him, his expression unreadable. Slowly, his right hand clenched into a fist as he stood there—unable to attack, and yet unable to move away.

Suddenly, a loud _clank_ pierced the night air, followed by a deep grinding noise from under the earth. Behind Ryu, the ground split apart, swinging up like massive doors. And up through the opening, in a loud roar of rotor blades, rose a military helicopter.

A glaring spotlight from the war machine focused itself on Ryu, painting him with its harsh radiance. He turned to face it, regarding it indifferently.

It responded by opening fire with its heavy-caliber machine guns, turning the area where Ryu had been standing into a chewed up ruin, along with the man he had been standing over. But Ryu was long since gone, circling faster than the eye could follow. He leapt at the helicopter from the side, rocketing up to land on the front of the cockpit with an impact that shook the whole craft.

The pilots inside looked out at him with terrified faces. He responded by driving both his hands through the windshield, grabbing each of them. He then ripped them out of the craft and flung them away. Twin screams echoed on either side of him as they plummeted earthward.

The helicopter, bereft of control, lurched drunkenly through the air into a downward spiral. Below, Ryu could see a second helicopter beginning to emerge from the underground hangar as its predecessor had. He took a brief moment to gauge the trajectories, then he jumped from his perch.

The sheer force of Ryu's leap was enough to shift the helicopter's course in the direction he wanted. Even as his feet touched earth, the dying aircraft was spiraling down, directly toward the hangar's open maw—and the other helicopter.

The two machines collided, crashing back down into the hangar below, where they exploded in a blast of searing flame.

* * *

Chun-li felt the vibrations from the explosion through the shackles that bound her to the wall, and then looked over at Bison—whose smile had not once faltered.

Once more, she wrenched futilely against her restraints, desperate to escape, to do _something_. "How long are you going to let this go on?" she demanded angrily. "How many of your own men will you make him kill before you're satisfied?"

Bison glanced at her, raising an eyebrow. "My own men?" he asked. "How mundanely you think, Inspector. Those creatures dying out there are not 'my' men. Not in any sense that interests me."

Pulling himself away from the images of Ryu wiping out the last remaining stragglers, Bison rose from his chair and walked over to where Killer Bee stood at attention. Reaching out, he ran his hand down the length of the silent girl's face, stroking it. Then, cupping his hand under her chin, he yanked her head around to face Chun-li.

"She," Bison said, "is _mine._ I own her every action, her every thought. No matter what command I gave her, she would obey without hesitation. She is nothing more than an extension of my will, completely incapable of disobeying me."

He released his grip on the girl's chin, and she resumed her normal pose. Bison, however, continued to address Chun-li. "Tell me, Inspector, why do you suppose that I have gone to such lengths to secure Ryu for myself? Shadowlaw's reach and influence already span the globe. I have kings, presidents, prime ministers alike cowering in fear of me. So why do you suppose the boy is so important?"

Chun-li said nothing, so he went on. "Because it is not enough. That kind of power—exercised through others—is a trivial half-measure, subject to failure and betrayal. I knew, long before I ever created Shadowlaw, that in the end, the only power truly worth pursuing was _personal_ power."

Bison swung his hand in a gesture encompassing the whole room. "All that you see here, the entire organization that you have been fighting for so long, has only ever been a means to that end. And Ryu's power represents the final step in that progression. My current method of empowering myself has reached the limits of what it can safely produce—but once I channel _his_ power as well, I will have more power at my disposal than I could ever hope to exhaust. Then, there will be no foe who can stand against me, no mind safe from my control. With my own hand I will remake the world—in _my_ image!"

A manic gleam had entered the crime lord's eyes. "Can you believe, Inspector, that the rulers of the past contented themselves with such paltry things as mere empires? I will surpass their feeble efforts, as the sun surpasses a candle. Why command allegiance, when you can crush the minds of your subjects under your will? Why rely on an army, when you can destroy a city with a thought? Why be a king... when you can be a _god?_"

Bison's words hung in the air, creating a deathly silence. Chun-li swallowed, her throat suddenly dry.

Then, in the hallway outside the room, she felt a familiar presence approaching, flooding her senses with its overwhelming force as it drew nearer and nearer.

And Bison had felt it too. He turned away from her, tracking along the wall with his eyes as Ryu drew ever nearer. Then, at last, the boy's presence halted in front of the blast door that led into the command center.

Bison glanced over at Killer Bee. "At last, our guest has arrived," he said. "Let him in." Obediently, the Doll walked over to a nearby control panel, and began to reach for a switch on it.

The next instant, the blast doors were smashed inward by a violent explosion of dark red energy. And there, in the remains of the doorway, stood Ryu, the power of the Satsui no Hado crackling around him.


	22. Confrontation

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Street Fighter in any way, shape or form. It and all associated characters, trademarks, etc. are owned by Capcom. I'm just telling some stories about them.

* * *

Chapter Twenty-Two: Confrontation

Thailand, March 17

"_Ryu!_"

The corner of Bison's mouth twitched in a small smirk at the Interpol girl's cry. "Indeed..." he said, locking eyes with the young man. "Welcome, Ryu."

Ryu gave no reply, his gaze never wavering from Bison's face, his will matched against that of the madman. Second after second passed, the tension increasing, until it seemed as though the very air between them would burst into flame at any moment.

With a chuckle, Bison abruptly broke their contest. Turning his back on Ryu, he walked over to his chair and seated himself in it. Then he swiveled to face the boy once more. "I must thank you for being so obliging," he said. "You found me even faster than I expected. But of course—" he gestured toward where Chun-li was bound "—you did have incentive."

The boy's glare deepened at the words, his power blazing even higher. The force of the Satsui no Hado washed over Bison's senses, battering against them like a storm. The madman smiled at the sensation, slowly licking his lips. Magnificent indeed.

Ryu began to walk toward the crime lord. Bison watched him approach, not rising from where he sat. Step by step, the distance between them diminished.

As Ryu closed in, Killer Bee's head snapped up to focus on him. Seeing a threat to her master, her programming immediately took over. Vaulting over the bank of computers she had been operating, she hurtled toward Ryu with blinding speed, her fist shooting out in a vicious strike aimed at his head.

Ryu didn't stop walking, didn't break stride. Without taking his eyes off Bison he raised his arm, then swung it in a backhand that caught Killer Bee an instant before her punch hit. His blow flung her across the room, slamming her into the room's steel wall with a force that cracked it.

The girl crumpled to her hands and knees for a moment—then pulled herself back to her feet, prepared to attack again. But Bison made a small halting gesture with his fingers, and obediently she kept back.

Soon, Ryu reached where his enemy was seated. He looked down at Bison, who gazed back up at him impassively. Then, for the first time, the young man spoke. "Release Chun-li," he ground out, his voice rough and distorted. "Now. Or I'll kill you where you stand."

Bison snorted. "Kill me? Hardly. You've already lost, boy. You lost the moment you stepped into this room. You just don't know it yet."

If the threat worried Ryu, he gave no sign. "I saw you in battle," he snarled back. "I wasn't impressed."

"Is that so?" The crime lord raised his eyebrows, expression still unconcerned. "How fortunate, then, that I do not have the slightest need to best you in that way."

A frown flickered across Ryu's face, and Bison laughed in response. "Really, boy," he said. "Did you actually think that I would stake my entire plan on something as uncertain as personal combat? Did you actually think that I would draw you out like this, if I were not absolutely certain that I could subdue you? Did you actually think that you could treat _me_ like one of your pathetic little street fights?"

The madman shook his head condescendingly. "What a fool you are. What a blind, gullible fool. I have spent years preparing for this moment, Ryu. And I have no interest whatsoever in a fair battle." Even as he spoke, Bison's finger made a quick movement, pressing a button in his chair's armrest.

Immediately Ryu charged, shooting toward Bison in a blur of motion. His leg lashed out in a kick aimed at the crime lord's face—but his target twisted out of the way at the last instant. The attack tore the back off of Bison's chair, sending it flying into a bank of computers. In reply, Bison grabbed Ryu's outstretched leg and swung him in a wide arc, hurling him along the same path.

Ryu twisted in midair, his hands hitting the floor and pushing himself into a handspring. He hit the far wall feet first, in a crouch, his hands cupped at his side. Dark power was crackling between them.

Then he thrust his palms toward his foe. A stream of ki roared from his hands, ripping a furrow in the floor as it tore across the room. Bison braced himself, crossing his arms in front of him and forming an energy barrier.

The Hadoken crashed over Bison's defenses in a huge detonation, causing the shield to flicker and waver. But it held. Undeterred, Ryu sprang off the wall, moving like a rocket as he hurtled toward his foe.

But even as he moved to attack, a new sound was beginning to fill the chamber. A low rumble, seeming to come from deep beneath them, shaking the very walls. It was like the waking of an engine—one of unimaginable size.

Ryu made as though to drive his fist into Bison's energy barrier—but then jumped at the last instant. Before Bison could react, Ryu had slipped just above the top of the shield, his hands latching onto the back of Bison's uniform as he passed overhead. Using his grip as a fulcrum, Ryu spun himself through the air to land just behind his foe, then continued the motion into a shoulder throw that sent Bison flying.

Nor did Ryu let up for an instant. He charged after Bison, slamming blow after punishing blow into him in midair. Diving under him with a roll, Ryu kicked straight upward to keep his foe aloft, then leaped after him in a Tatsumakisenpukyaku. The spinning kick battered its target countless times, knocking Bison away and sending him skidding along the ground.

Ryu continued to chase after him. He was moving with staggering speed, his arm raised for a blow against Bison's prone form—

—and then, without warning, Ryu's entire body was engulfed in a torrent of dark lightning.

The young man howled and crumpled, all balance lost, his furious charge becoming an out-of-control tumble in the blink of an eye. Cries of agony ripped free of his throat as he writhed on the ground, clawing at himself. But the pain did not stop, did not abate in the slightest.

Chuckling, Bison pulled himself back to his feet. "That was pathetic, boy," he said, as he wiped away the small trickle of blood running from the corner of his mouth. "I expected so much more from you. Even now, are you still too afraid to let slip the reins of your power? To give in fully, as you did in Japan?"

The only response Ryu made was to arch his back and scream. The energy wracked his body, sending him into wracking spasms. Bison moved to stand over him, looking down with contempt. "Not that it matters at this point. Even if you were to call on your full strength, it would only incapacitate you that much more thoroughly. It is your own power that is eating away at you from within."

Bison reached down, grabbing Ryu's convulsing form by the neck and hoisting him up into the air. "Did you know," he said, "that the 'Satsui no Hado' you use is of the same fundamental nature as my Psycho Power? A curious coincidence—and one that allows the unique form of attack that you are now experiencing."

"When you were in Japan, you were obliging enough to call on this power of yours to fight off my Dolls. Perhaps, at the time, you thought you had achieved a victory over me. But your 'victory' was exactly what I wanted to happen. The _true_ objective of that assault was to observe your power. To analyze it. To determine its precise frequency... and by extension, the precise frequency necessary to scramble it."

Despite the energy ripping through his body, Ryu managed to pull himself together enough to take a feeble swing at Bison's face. The crime lord caught Ryu's fist easily in his palm, then flung the boy across the room for good measure, sending him crashing into the wall.

"Even as we speak," Bison continued, ignoring the interruption, "my Psycho Drive is flooding this entire area with ambient energy waves, specifically modulated to resonate violently with your own 'ki'. It cannot be dodged, cannot be avoided... and the more of your own power you call on, the greater the damage will be. It is an inescapable trap—the perfect counter to a threat like you."

Bison paused, watching as Ryu managed to pull himself to his hands and knees. The boy's teeth were gritted together, as he fought to suppress the convulsions. Clawing at the nearby wall, he pulled himself up into something like a standing posture, still leaning heavily on it for support. Then, with a unintelligible shout, he pushed off the wall and began to stumble drunkenly toward Bison.

The madman met him halfway, casually driving his fist into Ryu's stomach. The boy doubled over, staggering away—but before he could hit the ground Bison slammed a kick into the side of Ryu's head, sending him spinning through the air.

Once again, Ryu's body slammed hard into the floor. At first he simply lay there, but then, slowly, he began to struggle back to his feet. For a while Bison watched the young man's efforts, then shook his head contemptuously. "Just give it up, boy," he said. "A fool like you never had a chance."

If Ryu heard Bison's words, he gave no sign. Sighing in irritation, Bison walked over to stand next to Ryu's shuddering form. He aimed his palm down at the young man, then fired a ki blast point blank. Ryu cried out in pain as he was hammered back down into the floor.

"Your power will feed my own," the crime lord stated flatly. "You will become my living battery, the reservoir of strength with which I will transcend all mortal reach. You have lost. The world has lost. I have won."

And yet, at his feet, Ryu was _still_ trying to rise.

Irritated, Bison reached down and yanked Ryu up to look him in the eye. It was ridiculous, the tenacity that this boy was displaying. Fighting on, even though all hope for victory had been shattered. _Such a pathetic display..._ he thought. _The wild thrashings of a brute who cannot understand his place in the order of things._

But then Bison looked deep into Ryu's eyes. And, to his astonishment, he could find no trace of defeat there. Not the slightest hint. The boy looked back at him, grim determination burning within him, with no sign of despair or resignation.

And for the first time since Ryu had launched his attack, a tiny sliver of doubt lodged itself in Bison's thoughts.

_How?_ wondered the crime lord. _How can he still have any hope for victory? What chance does he have left? I have crushed his power. He lies helpless, crippled before me._

_What can he still think to accomplish?_

Bison turned the possibilities back and forth in his mind, trying to think of any tactic he had missed, any attack that Ryu might still be capable of, anything that could turn the battle in his favor. He could think of nothing whatsoever—and yet the growing unease still gnawed at him. _What am I missing?_ he thought urgently. _What is he thinking? What can he possibly—?_

Suddenly, his train of thought was broken—by the earsplitting howl of an alarm klaxon. The crime lord spun to face Killer Bee. "What is that?" he roared, the sliver of doubt beginning to grow. "_Report!_"

The Doll's fingers flew across her terminal, then she looked up. "Milord," she responded. "The security systems are reporting a perimeter breach deep within the facility core. Blast door 12-C has been forcibly opened, and the cameras are picking up two intruders penetrating the restricted zone. One of them..." she hesitated, something that could almost be called puzzlement entering her voice. "One of them appears to be the prisoner."

_The prisoner._ Those two words detonated inside Bison with the force of a bomb, as he belatedly began to realize what was going on. He whirled, turning to face the spot on the wall where "Chun-li" hung bound. And, for the first time since Ryu had burst into the chamber, he looked—really _looked_—at her.

The illusion faded away instantly under his gaze, vanishing like mist. In its place, there was nothing but the empty, opened manacles that the Interpol agent had once been restrained in. Bison threw back his head, his voice a howl of rage.

_"ROSE!"_

* * *

The sight of Ryu blasting his way into the room, wreathed in dark power, had been a shocking sight even for Chun-li. But that was nothing compared to the surprise she had received when she saw the slender, colorfully dressed woman who stepped in behind him—making a gesture of silence toward her as she did so.

As Rose made her way around the perimeter of the room toward Chun-li, it became increasingly obvious that neither Killer Bee nor Bison could see her. The policewoman held her breath as the older woman crept closer and closer, until at last she was at her side.

Reaching over to a keypad that was set into the wall next to the restraints, Rose entered a nine-number sequence without hesitation. There was a soft whir of machinery, and the manacles opened, allowing Chun-li to slip free. In the background, the battle between Ryu and Bison was joined.

"Inspector, you must come with me," whispered Rose urgently. Chun-li nodded, and the two of them slipped silently back across the chamber, through the ruined door, and out into the hallway. As soon as they had left the room Rose broke into a run, and Chun-li immediately followed suit.

"We have little time," Rose said, her voice tight. "Ryu will occupy Bison for as long as he can... but I fear it will not last forever. Not if Bison is doing what I suspect he is."

The policewoman glanced over at the woman sprinting alongside her. "You and Ryu planned this together?" she asked.

Rose nodded. "He approached me in Japan. He had already made up his mind to free you—but he knew that Bison would likely have a trap ready for him. So he sought me out, to act as his own ace in the hole."

"On my own, I could not hope to get anywhere near Bison without him detecting me. But under the cover of Ryu's assault—as he blanketed the area with his power—it was trivially easy to conceal myself. I was the spark in his inferno, the whisper in his hurricane. And with Bison's attention fully consumed by him, we are safe."

Chun-li frowned as she ran. "For now."

"Indeed," Rose said. "Ryu has bought us a brief window. We must make the most of it."

"How?"

Rose's eyes narrowed in determination. "We have one chance, and only one. We must attack the Psycho Drive. It is the source of Bison's power. As long as he has access to it, he will be immortal, and well-nigh undefeatable. But without it, he can be beaten. And killed."

Chun-li opened her mouth to ask another question, but was interrupted as they rounded a corner, and saw a pair of Bison's soldiers ahead of them. Immediately she lunged forward, nailing the nearest one with a spin kick that slammed his head into the nearest wall. At the same time, Rose's shawl whipped through the air beside her, coiling around the other guard and delivering a surge of ki that dropped the man to the floor alongside his compatriot.

Rose drew up short, looking at the huge blast door that the guards had been standing in front of. "And now we come to it..." she said. "This is where I will need to rely on your help, Inspector."

Chun-li glanced over at her. "What do you mean?"

"The route to the Psycho Drive lies through this door," Rose explained. "But the only one within range of my telepathy who knows the proper code to open it is Bison himself—and I dare not dig that deeply into _his_ mind. With this door... we will need to force our way through."

The policewoman could see where the other woman was going with this. "And that won't go unnoticed."

"No, it will not." Rose traced her hand along the door's surface, her expression unreadable. "Once we cross this threshold, Bison will be on us immediately. Then... it will be my turn to delay him for as long as I am able."

"Rose..." Chun-li began, hesitantly.

"We _must_ do this," interrupted the other woman curtly. "It is the only way. You must search for the Drive deep beneath us—I expect there will be an elevator of some kind leading down."

"Rose," repeated the policewoman, more insistently this time.

But the older woman pressed on, speaking quickly, as though she had not heard. "Once you find your target, the easiest way to deal with it will be to destroy the intermix chamber. With that gone, the Drive will have no way of regulating the reaction that powers it. Then it will be..."

"Rose!" The resolve in Chun-li's voice finally broke through Rose's resistance. The woman looked hesitantly up, their eyes at last meeting, and Chun-li could see the shame and guilt that were buried there. "Rose, thank you."

Rose broke their gaze, looking down at the floor. Then she spoke again, softly. "Are you ready?"

Chun-li nodded. "I'm ready," she said. "I've been ready for this moment ever since Bison killed my father. Let's do it."

In response, Rose lifted her shawl, channeled a huge amount of ki into it, and then swung it at the door.

* * *

"Killer Bee!" shouted Bison, unable to keep the desperation entirely out of his voice. "Deactivate the teleportation shields near the Drive sector! All of them! _Now!_"

The Doll complied without hesitation, her fingers typing away madly. Bison wrenched his gaze back to Ryu, and saw grim satisfaction clearly written in the boy's eyes. "How?" the crime lord demanded. "How could you trust _her_ to be your ally? She tried to _kill_ you!"

Despite the pain he was in from the dark lightning tearing at him, the boy met Bison's gaze. "Of... course..." he managed to say. "Why... do you think... I brought her? To make sure... Chun-li... got out. And to make sure... _neither_ of us did. She was here... to finish off... the winner. Whoever... it was."

Killer Bee looked up from her terminal. "Done, milord."

With a roar, Bison hurled Ryu away, straight into a wall, then teleported directly to where the Doll stood. He proceeded to wrap an arm around her, and then together, both of them vanished from sight.

* * *

Chun-li and Rose hurtled down the hallway, both running for all they were worth. Ahead, they could see an elevator door, their goal, their route to the depths of the base, to the Psycho Drive. They raced toward it, both their senses alert, ready for an attack at any moment.

They were not disappointed. Just ahead of them, the very air blurred, and two figures warped into existence. Chun-li and Rose skidded to a stop, each taking a stance as they faced the ones standing in their way.

Bison sneered at them. "A clever try," he said. "Clever, but as you can see, futile."

"That has yet to be decided, Bison," replied Rose, the air around her humming as she gathered her power around her. "Come, monster. One last time, to end the nightmare."

"I would have it no other way..." Bison glanced over to where his Doll stood at his side. "Killer Bee, remove the other annoyance. She has outlived her usefulness."

In silent obedience, Killer Bee began to advance on her target, her emotionless eyes locking with Chun-li's own. Taking a deep breath, Chun-li shifted back into a fighting stance, facing the young super-soldier. Beside her, Rose drew her shawl and held it in a defensive position, the fabric twisting and writhing unnaturally in the air. Bison watched them, arms crossed, a deadly glare on his face.

And then the battle began.


	23. Crux

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Street Fighter in any way, shape or form. It and all associated characters, trademarks, etc. are owned by Capcom. I'm just telling some stories about them.

* * *

Chapter Twenty-Three: Crux

Thailand, March 17

Chun-li watched, warily, as Killer Bee approached. The Doll's eyes gazed back at her, flat and emotionless, betraying no hint as to her tactics. It unnerved the policewoman a little. Seldom had she encountered someone so impossible to read.

Next to her, Rose and Bison were sizing each other up as well, the very walls seeming to tremble at the massive power they each held, waiting to be unleashed at any moment. Chun-li could feel Rose's focus, razor-sharp and desperate. Bison, on the other hand, was regarding the scene before him with contemptuous disdain, like a man faced with the unpleasant task of squashing a few stray bugs.

_Inspector._ Chun-li almost jerked with surprise at hearing Rose's voice whispering into her thoughts, but she kept control of herself. The quiet words continued. _This is not a fight we can win... but I may be able to buy you a window of opportunity..._

Chun-li listened as Rose quickly described her plan. But even as the other woman spoke, Killer Bee was closing in. When she had come within a few yards of her target, the Doll made her move.

With a sudden burst of speed she lunged at the policewoman, her fists and feet lashing out in a lightning-fast barrage. Chun-li held her ground as best she could, blocking and parrying, all the while analyzing her foe's technique. The Doll's attacks were efficient and brutal, each crushingly powerful blow leading into the next with no hesitation or wasted movement.

Rose charged forward, discharging a shower of ki blasts at Bison, flooding the air with the glowing bursts of energy. Bison's lip curled, then at the last moment he raised his hand negligently. All of the attacks detonated without effect against the shield that sprung into existence.

Chun-li, for her part, was beginning to counterattack, slipping her own strikes in between the furious rain of techniques, forcing the Doll to parry. For what seemed like an eternity they were locked like that, neither gaining the upper hand as they battled back and forth, coming at each other from every direction.

Then Bison made his move.

Rose's attacks were splashing harmlessly across his defenses, until at last his annoyance seemed to reach its limit. Keeping the shield up with one hand, he gathered a titanic surge of ki in the other. The dark power writhed angrily in his palm, dwarfing all Rose's previous attempts. Then he hurled it.

The huge blast tore down the hallway, its wake ripping up the surroundings as it went. Killer Bee leapt to the side, trying to get as far out of the blast's path as she could. And yet Chun-li did _not_ try to evade Bison's attack. Nor did Rose. Instead, the older woman braced herself as hard as she could, spun her shawl through the air as she screamed out:

"Soul... _Reflect!_"

There was a blinding flash of light, a shockwave, and suddenly Bison's attack was hurtling right back at him. The madman's eyes widened in surprise—just before his very own blast struck him square-on. He was smashed backward, his heels skidding along the floor.

Nor was Rose finished. Even as Bison reeled backward she lunged after him, her shawl slashing away viciously. The glowing weapon ripped into Bison, battering him, each impact releasing a discharge of energy. She drove him backward, not letting up on her assault, each blow escalating in strength. Finally, the cloth wrapped around his throat, as she jumped into the air.

_"Soul Aura Throw!"_

Rose flung Bison through the air in an arc, slamming him face-first into the floor with enough force to shatter it. Then, as she straddled his body, her shawl writhed to encircle him completely, binding his arms to his sides. "Go!" she screamed at Chun-li, even as she pressed her palms against the glowing cloth, intense focus straining her features. "I can only hold him for a few seconds!"

The order was unnecessary. Trusting in Rose's ability to redirect Bison's ki blast, Chun-li had been running from the instant that Killer Bee had given her the opening by dodging. She sped past the two powerful psychics, sprinting headlong for the elevator at the far end of the hall. Equally fast footsteps behind her told her that the Doll was right on her heels.

It took Chun-li only moments to reach her destination. She slammed her palm into the button by the elevator door, then ducked as Doll's foot cut through the air where her head had been. The policewoman retaliated with a series of quick jabs, then a low kick to her opponent's knee. Killer Bee jumped back in defense, then ricocheted off the wall behind her to come at Chun-li with a flying kick.

Just in time, the elevator doors slid open and the policewoman dove through, causing the Doll's attack to miss. Immediately Chun-li rolled back to her feet, cupping her hands, focusing her will into the glowing sphere of ki that was forming between them.

_"Kikkoken!"_

The energy attack shot out through the door, catching the Doll just as she landed and blasting her down the hallway. Without wasting any time, Chun-li hit the elevator's "down" button.

Killer Bee skidded down the hall on her back, but all too quickly turned her momentum into a flip that put her back on her feet. And then she was racing at Chun-li again, her feet pounding as she hurtled toward her target. But the elevator doors had already begun to close... and they slammed shut just an instant before the Doll reached them, separating the two combatants. And with that, the elevator began to accelerate downward, carrying its lone occupant to what lay beneath.

Then, from above, came the sound of wrenching metal. A second later, Chun-li heard something land on the roof of the elevator.

* * *

Rose pressed her hands against her shawl, straining with all her might to keep up her binding technique. She could feel Bison straining against his bonds, channeling his own immense power into the cloth to wage war against hers. She clenched her teeth, calling on every ounce of willpower she could bring to bear. The shawl began to glow, growing hotter and hotter against her palms, until it started to burn her flesh.

But she held on.

She held on, as Chun-li ran for the elevator. She held on, as the policewoman fought her way into it. She held on, as the Doll ripped the doors back open, and jumped into the shaft in pursuit. She held on, choking back the screams of pain that threatened to erupt from her. She held on, with the desperation of someone fighting for her very soul.

Until, at last, she could hold on no more.

Sensing her faltering strength, Bison made a final push with his power, and her defenses were overwhelmed. The place where her hands touched her shawl exploded in a fury of dark energy, the detonation blasting her straight upward, slamming her into the ceiling. From there she fell, body limp—straight into a backhand from Bison. The blow sent her flying into the far wall, where she slumped to the ground.

Snarling, the madman pulled himself to his feet, tossing away the now powerless piece of cloth that had bound him. Then, with a single stride, he covered the distance to the fallen woman, lifted his foot, and brought it down with jackhammer force toward her head.

At the last moment, Rose pulled herself together enough to roll underneath Bison, avoiding the stomp. She staggered back to her feet, reeling unsteadily, but still she managed to snag her fallen shawl as she stumbled backward. As Bison turned toward her, she swung it at his head to cover her retreat.

Bison raised an arm to parry her attack... only to discover that direct injury had not been Rose's intent. This time, when her weapon struck his arm, it released all its power as a blinding flash of _light_. Directly into Bison's eyes.

The crime lord howled in rage and pain, clutching at his face with one hand. But in his other hand, another ki blast was charging. Rose braced herself, preparing to try another Soul Reflect...

...but Bison hurled the energy attack not directly at Rose, but rather at the floor in her direction. It struck just at her feet, the shockwave flinging her down the hallway like a rag doll, pieces of shrapnel ripping into her body. She finally hit the ground, rolling end over end, until finally skidding to a rest.

The pain was immense—but she knew she could not afford to just lay there. Shakily, she began to pull herself to her feet. Far down the hall Bison was still rubbing his eyes, trying to clear the afterimages from them, but Rose knew his vision would return all too soon. Taking a deep breath, she tried to regain as much of her faltering strength as she could.

Sure enough, seconds later Bison looked up. His face was contorted into an expression of almost inhuman fury. The fortune-teller knew that look, and she knew what it meant. The madman was deep in the throes of his corrupted Psycho Power. And in _that_ state, she had no illusions whatsoever as to her ability to beat him—or even substantially hurt him. This would be a contest of survival, and nothing more.

"Rose..." he ground out, his eyes blazing with purple fire. "This... _indignity_... is the final one that I will suffer from your hands! Your wretched existence _ends_ _here!_"

Rose took a deep breath. "If that is my destiny... then I will meet it," she said, taking a stance and fixing Bison with a calm, defiant gaze. _But I will sell my life as dearly as I can... and place my faith in Chun-li to bring your downfall to completion..._

* * *

The roof of the elevator buckled, as impact after impact slammed into it from above. Chun-li looked upward, licking her lips as she judged how much longer it would last. Not long. She pressed her back against the wall, noting with distaste how small the elevator car was. _Not much room to maneuver..._ ran through her mind.

_"Cannon Spike!"_

Killer Bee crashed down through the roof with a diving kick, just barely missing the Interpol agent. Immediately Chun-li slammed a knee into her, driving her into the wall before her feet even touched the ground.

The Doll retaliated by grabbing hold of Chun-li's leg before she could retract it, then using her other arm to pound repeated elbow strikes at her opponent's head. But the policewoman kept her guard up, doggedly weathering the assault.

Changing tactics, Killer Bee kicked Chun-li's standing leg out from under her. But instead of fighting for her balance, Chun-li twisted with the momentum of her fall, planting her palms on the floor, and swinging her other leg around in a kick that slammed Killer Bee's head back into the wall. Chun-li swung back to her feet, her hand knifing around at Killer Bee's throat, but it was parried—and then swiftly countered—by the Doll.

Back and forth the two young women spun, arms and legs crossing and criss-crossing. They whirled around each other in the cramped confines of the rapidly descending elevator, trying to find every advantage, trying to exploit every opening.

The policewoman managed to trap the Doll's wrist, and from there tried to wrench her into an armlock. But Killer Bee escaped it, running up the side of the elevator and into a backflip that spun her free. From there, she whirled her elbow around to slam into the back of Chun-li's head, then tried to drive her knee into the policewoman's stomach. Chun-li blocked it just in time—only to have the Doll catch her with a head butt that sent her staggering back.

Killer Bee followed with a kick, but Chun-li spun out of the way, and the attack only dented the elevator wall. The young assassin kept up the attack, with kick after kick, Chun-li slipping between some and parrying others. Even as she dodged, she could feel their descent beginning to slow. They were nearing their destination.

Then at last, Chun-li found her opening. Sidestepping one of the Doll's kicks, she slid into close quarters with her opponent, using her momentum to off-balance the other girl. A little bit was all she needed—and then her hand snaked out to grab the Doll by her collar and slam her bodily to the ground.

Killer Bee rolled with the impact, tucking both legs to her chest, and then kicking out with them at the Interpol agent. Chun-li jumped upward, over the attack, and up to the elevator ceiling. Then she pushed off of it for extra force on her descent, coming down with a fearsome diving kick. Killer Bee only just managed to roll to one side in time, and Chun-li smashed a large gouge into the elevator floor.

Somewhere in the back of her mind she realized that the elevator had come to a stop, but the majority of her attention was consumed by Killer Bee. The young assassin spun to her feet, leg whipping around in a kick that Chun-li managed to duck. Then a low sweep that Chun-li managed to jump. Then a third kick—straight at her in midair. Chun-li crossed her arms in front of her in a block, the force of the blow hurling her backward...

...just as the elevator doors slid open. Instead of slamming into them, Chun-li's body sailed straight through the opening, and out into what lay beyond.

The policewoman flew a good distance through the air before she landed, feeling a cold steel lattice beneath her as she twisted automatically into a roll. In an instant she was back on her feet, her gaze sweeping quickly around her, as she tried to take in the full enormity of where she was.

It was a massive underground chamber—so huge that it boggled her sense of scale for a moment. She was standing on a long, narrow catwalk—which was only one small part of an elaborate, interconnected web of them that stretched out across the cavern. Far below, she could see the floor, blanketed completely by densely packed clusters of machinery whose purposes she could not begin to grasp. Even the walls were covered with all manner of terminals, levers, pipes, valves, and cables. And all of it was arranged in concentric circles around the object at the chamber's center.

_That must be the intermix chamber that Rose told me about..._ thought Chun-li. It was a transparent column, stretching from floor to the ceiling, within which she could see incredible quantities of energy raging. _This isn't going to be easy. I've only got one technique that might be able to damage something like that..._

But her attention was dragged back to more immediate matters, as Killer Bee emerged from the elevator. And Chun-li knew that to have any hope of success, she couldn't afford to leave the assassin at her back.

The two young women looked at each other in silence, standing on opposite ends of the metal bridge, their faces cast luridly in the crackling, flickering glow that the Psycho Drive emitted. Slowly, Chun-li stepped back into a stance, her open hands twisting in a graceful, circular motion. In reply, Killer Bee stepped back as well, her fists shooting up into a guard position. For a moment, time itself seemed to freeze.

Then they charged.

The catwalk clanged under their rapid footfalls as they ran at each other. As they closed, Killer Bee leapt into the air, her body spinning as she shot toward Chun-li like a bullet, crying out _"Cannon Drill!"_

But the last moment Chun-li leaped to the side, grabbing hold of the catwalk's railing with her hands and cartwheeling along it's length, the Cannon Drill missing her by inches. The instant the policewoman landed she was back on the offensive, dashing toward the recovering Killer Bee.

The assassin just barely whirled to meet her, and the two collided in a storm of blows. At first Chun-li had the advantage, pushing Killer Bee backward, but the Doll soon regained her rhythm and began to push back. They exchanged countless blows every second, without rest or respite, their arms and legs blurring in eerie concert with each other. Thrust! Twist! Parry! Sweep! Sidestep! Redirect! Strike!

Chun-li could not tell the passage of time, so deep had she fallen into the fierceness of the moment. She could feel the pain from where the Doll had managed to hit her, and yet at the same time it felt irrelevant, as though it had happened to someone else. The two young women tore at each other, equally matched, each fighting with all the skill they possessed, the outcome of the battle balanced on a razor's edge.

And then Killer Bee made a mistake.

She had leaped backward, out of range of one of Chun-li's kicks. The policewoman chased after her, rolling underneath the Doll's retaliatory kick, and into a leg sweep. Hastily, Killer Bee jumped over it...

A little too high. A little too close.

From her sweep, Chun-li slid straight into a crouch, one leg extended, her open palms twisting into position as she assumed the stance that Master Gen had tirelessly drilled into her. Above her, she saw the Doll's eyes widen almost imperceptibly at the sudden burst of ki that was surging through the policewoman's body.

_"Hazan Tenshokyaku!"_

And then Chun-li was shooting upward like a human missile, her right leg swinging around for a kick. Killer Bee crossed her arms, trying to block, but Chun-li's leg simply plowed into the Doll's guard, smashing it back into her stomach. The blow doubled the Doll over, sending her even higher into the air.

Nor did Chun-li let up for an instant. She continued to rocket upward, spinning from there into a kick with her other leg. This one she aimed a little higher, bypassing the Doll's guard entirely. It crashed straight into her chest, driving a choked-off gasp from her throat.

The policewoman continued her spin, into yet another kick. And then another. And then another. And then another. By that time, her foe was completely unable to defend. All of the attacks were landing unhindered, each one striking with pulverizing force. The girl jerked and twisted under the relentless barrage, as the two of them soared higher and higher with each devastating impact.

And then, at the apex of the technique, Chun-li threw her final kick, coming up under her opponent's chin and snapping her head back. The Doll was flung away, flipping over backward into an uncontrolled, end over end tumble as the two young women finally surrendered to gravity and began the long fall to the catwalk below.

Chun-li landed on her feet, mere moments before Killer Bee's limp form crashed heavily down a good distance off. She did not rise, laying sprawled there. Still, Chun-li was relieved to see that the girl's chest was still rising and falling; it meant she had not miscalculated the force on that last, extremely dangerous technique.

_I'm sorry I had to do that to you..._ Chun-li thought. _I know you're not in this of your own free will, but there wasn't any other choice. I just hope I'll be able to help you when this is all over._

Then, planting her foot on the catwalk railing, she leaped over the edge, angling down for another bridge that cut through space below her. Rebounding off that, she then ricocheted off the chamber wall, and over to yet a third bridge, making a rapid, acrobatic descent to the cavern floor. Soon, she landed in a crouch.

Looking up, her eyes focused on the huge glowing column off in the center of the chamber. The key to Bison's immense power... and his point of weakness. She clenched her fists. _This is it._

Then she broke into an all-out sprint, blurring past the rows of machinery as she ran toward her target.

* * *

Gasping for breath, Rose scrambled backward as fast as she could, her shawl blurring in rapid, useless strikes. Bison plowed after her, a relentless, unstoppable juggernaut, not even noticing her attacks. The unholy radiance of his Psycho Power blazed, not just in his eyes, but in a steady aura about his fists, casting everything in a purple glow. With a furious roar he swung at her, again and again, moving with such ferocious speed that it was all Rose could do to stay out of the madman's reach.

Bison aimed a particularly vicious punch at her head, just as her desperate retreat brought her to a junction in the hallway. Quickly she ducked around the corner, and the crime lord's blow struck that instead of her. The resulting discharge of energy obliterated that entire section of the wall, blasting debris everywhere. Bison was unaffected, striding through the smoking remains of the corner, while raising his palm to charge a ki projectile.

Rose continued to back away, licking her lips. Soon Bison hurled the attack—aiming, as before, at the ground just in front of her so that she could not redirect it.

But he had underestimated how much strength the woman still had in her. Putting on a burst of speed, she slid forward on her knees to get underneath the attack and meet it with her shawl. _"Soul Reflect!"_

The blast shot back toward Bison, but the instant before it hit him he vanished, teleporting out of its path. Rose flung herself to the side, just as the madman materialized behind her, his fist swinging down right where she had just been. The miss blasted a huge crater into the floor, the shockwave alone slamming Rose into the wall. Bison swung once more, but Rose rolled away along the wall's length, and he only succeeded in reducing yet another part of his base to rubble.

Rose stumbled away, fighting for her balance. Seizing the opportunity, Bison tried yet another ki attack. This time, Rose responded before the projectile was even finished charging. Her shawl whipped up in a desperate slash—not targeting Bison, but rather the attack itself.

The glowing fabric snaked out to touch the concentrated energy—disrupting it. The attack detonated in Bison's own hand, sending him staggering. But he quickly righted himself, his rage only increasing, and his power along with it.

That same explosion, however, had thrown Rose to the ground. She rolled to her hands and knees, trying to pull herself to her feet...

Too slow. Bison's booted foot crashed into her from the side, kicking her through the air and into the wall with enough force that she bounced off of it—and back into a downward punch. Rose screamed as she felt the Psycho Power around his fist explode through her, as her shattered body was smashed into the floor.

And just like that, it was over. Unable to move, barely clinging to consciousness, she knew that she was finished.

But even though she was as good as dead, there was still one last play for time that she was determined to make. If she acted now—while Bison's mind was still affected by calling on Psycho Power so heavily—it might just work. Even then, such a simple thing would not likely deceive the crime lord for more than a few seconds, but she would play for every single second she could. Gritting her teeth, she focused her will on one task, and one alone.

Suddenly, she found herself being dragged up by the collar of her clothes, until she was face to face with Bison. She bit back a howl of pain, keeping herself focused on her task even as Bison began to speak to her.

"So..." he breathed. "After so many years, this is how it finally ends. After all the waiting, after all the maneuvering, after all the battles... Now each of the victories I sought are, delivered to me on a single day."

Rose said nothing, her eyes clamped shut, her face covered in her blood, her head lolling to and fro. Bison leaned in even closer, then spat on her. "You have _lost_," he snarled, driving the last word home with every drop of venom that he could muster. "I want you to know that as you die. You, and everything you stand for, have _lost_. Ryu is mine, your miserable fragment of my soul is forfeit, and I can sense that Killer Bee has already finished off..."

Suddenly his voice trailed off, a small frown crossing his features. "Wait..." he said at last. "Wait... Something isn't right... You're clouding my..." His frown deepened, a look of concentration crossing his face.

The next moment, his eyes widened in an expression of horror. _"No!"_

* * *

Chun-li ran with every bit of speed she possessed, her mind racing ahead to what she would do when she arrived at her destination. This was their one last chance to stop Bison's mad ambitions, to cut off his power at the root. She raced toward the glowing column, now mere seconds away—

—and then, directly in front of her, Bison appeared in a blur of teleportation.

It was pure reflex that saved her. The crime lord was attacking the instant his body materialized, fist shooting toward her chest. She threw herself sideways just in time, twisting into a diagonal lunge that carried her on past the madman—

—but not for long. His form vanished into nothingness, and reappeared in front of her once more. Bison lashed out with a kick, but Chun-li just barely managed to plant her feet enough to kill her forward momentum, and reverse direction into a backflip. The evasion worked; Bison's leg cut through the air just beneath her, missing her by inches.

Chun-li landed, breathing heavily, and for a moment the two of them simply stood there, looking at each other. Bison loomed in front of her, barring the path to his one weakness. His power was as terrible as ever, nearly crushing her spirit. His dead white eyes stared down at her, but she force herself to meet the gaze of her father's murderer.

At length, Bison broke the silence. "An impressive effort, Inspector. That an insect like you could come this close to victory over me is nothing short of astonishing. However, you were not quite fast enough... and now it has all come to nothing."

As he spoke, he began to levitate into the air. Then, spinning his body rapidly, he dove at Chun-li, a huge, destructive aura raging around him. _"Psycho Crusher!"_

Chun-li took a desperate running leap to the side, flinging herself headlong out of Bison's path. She hit the ground rolling and was back on her feet in an instant, trying to take the opportunity to run toward the central chamber—

—but she had only made it a step before Bison teleported in front of her once more, driving her off with a barrage of punches that she barely managed to avoid. She backpedaled furiously, trying to get some distance—

—but the madman simply vanished once more. Knowing instantly that he would reappear behind her, Chun-li spun into a crouch, Bison's fist ripping through the air just above her head. Then, planting her palms on the floor, she used a handspring to launch herself straight up, her legs scissoring apart when they reached level with Bison's face.

_"Spinning Bird Kick!"_

Calling on her ki, the Interpol agent began to rotate with incredible speed, her legs becoming blurs of circular motion, her feet slamming Bison's head sideways over and over again. The madman actually gave ground a step or two under the crushing blows to his temple, before recovering himself and grabbing Chun-li by the ankle in mid-kick, halting her rotation.

_"Sen'en Shuu!"_

With another burst of ki, Chun-li used Bison's grip as a fulcrum, swinging her other leg high overhead, then bringing it down like an axe with all her might onto the bridge of his nose. From there she curled that leg behind Bison's head, pulling herself in tight, and fired her ki blast straight into his face at absolute point-blank range.

_"Kikkoken!"_

That was enough to fully rip herself free of Bison's grip, the force of the detonation propelling her away. She skidded along the ground, before finally rolling to her feet and seeing the effect of her attacks.

Bison was standing there, one hand reaching up to gingerly touch his face where she had struck him. As he did so, his eyebrows rose slightly in shock. "That... hurt," he said, as though he could not quite believe it. Then he chuckled, shaking his head. "Truly, Inspector, you are full of surprises."

For her part, Chun-li felt her heart sink. Three of her most devastating attacks... and that was the only result. Whirling, she made another hopeless run toward the center of the chamber.

Bison's mocking laugh rang out behind her. This time, he let her take a whole four steps before teleporting in on the attack.

* * *

Above, lying crumpled on the ground where Bison had dropped her in his haste to stop Chun-li, Rose sensed the battle playing out in the Drive Chamber below. She could feel the policewoman's valiant struggle, but she knew how little likelihood of success it had. Bison had Chun-li completely on the defensive, fighting with all her ability just to stay alive. There was next to no chance that she would be able to break free and cripple Bison's machine.

Desperate beyond all reason, Rose tried to drag her broken body along the ground, trying to reach Chun-li, to help _somehow_. Her reward was another wave of agony crashing over her. She began to sob, the tears coming partly from the pain, but mostly from her own uselessness as everything—Ryu's freedom, Chun-li's life, the fate of the world—hung in the balance.

She wracked her brain, trying to find a way to help Chun-li. But she came up empty. There was no way she could intervene physically, and now that Bison had calmed from his previous berserker state, she had no more mental tricks that would work on him either. There was nothing that she could do.

The fortuneteller clenched her fist, striking weakly against the floor despite the pain it caused her. _This can't be how it ends!_ she begged. _It can't be that a monster like him should go unopposed! There must be a way to defeat him, there must be!_

Then, suddenly, in a blinding flash of inspiration, she realized that there _was_ one last card she had left to play. It was a desperate gamble—but they had little enough to lose as it was. If Chun-li's fight could just keep Bison distracted enough, so that he didn't detect what Rose was attempting...

And so, gathering her strength, she reached out with her mind.

* * *

Cammy floated, alone, through the dark abyss of dreamless unconsciousness. She was at peace, a rare state for her to be in. The programming that Bison had burned into her brain still held its rigid sway over her, clamping down on all independent thought... but here, in a place where thought was not required, the pain became almost bearable.

And then, without warning, there was a flash of... something else. Sensation. A voice, speaking to her as only Bison's voice had ever done. But this was _not_ Bison's voice. No, it was the farthest thing from it, a fact that was both incomprehensible and terrifying to her.

Yet along with the fear, there were a few tiny, almost non-existent seeds of an emotion that she had no name for. An emotion that someone else might have called "hope."

_Astonishing..._ the voice said. _You have been fighting back against Bison's control already. And you have even made significant progress. This may work after all..._

The precise meaning of the words was lost on Cammy, but something of their intent carried through to her regardless. The effect was an increased apprehension and agitation, although she did not know of what.

_Brace yourself, child,_ the voice warned. _I will do all in my power to shield you and to guide your thoughts. But even so, this will... not be pleasant._ The sensations increased as the voice spoke, permeating the broken pieces of her soul, winding themselves around all the commands and barriers that had been built there.

Cammy could only observe in shock as the sensations encircling those foreign objects (when had she ever identified them as "foreign"?) began to _constrict_, with a pressure that she could feel, and yet not feel, and it was growing, and it was horrible, and it _hurt_, and it was terrifying, and it was wrong, and deep, deep inside, a small, tiny, almost extinguished part of her was screaming out _yes, yes, yes, YES!_

The pain was unimaginable—but simultaneously, somehow, beautiful. Cracks were beginning to grow in the mental constructs that bound her. She had no concept whatsoever of "freedom", but she could nonetheless _feel_ herself on the verge of something amazing, something intoxicating. The pressure continued to mount and mount and mount, until she felt as though she would be crushed to pieces, and even _then_ she couldn't wish it any other way—

And then something _snapped_.

And then... came thought.

She screamed, filling the abyss with her incoherent howls at something so utterly alien to her, the birthright she had so long been denied. It was like _breathing_ for the first time in sixteen years, strange and terrible and wonderful and _alive_. She screamed and screamed and sobbed and screamed, her mind thrashing out wildly. And all the while, the voice was whispering to her, guiding those nascent thoughts, working to soothe, to bring some measure of calm and order to her psyche.

Soon her screaming stopped, as she started to let the voice carry her. Feelings, memories, _self_, all identified for the first time, swirled around her in a maelstrom.

_And now, child, it is time for you to awaken._

With a start, Cammy jerked up to a sitting position, drenched in sweat, sucking in huge gasps of air. The world spun circles around her for a moment, with no up or down left for her. But above it all was the heart-rending feeling of _freedom_.

She knew there were more questions, more uncertainties, but she could feel the voice suppressing those allowing her to simply bask in the wonderful, unimaginable pleasure of her release from the constant torture that she had lived up until now.

And it was then that the voice spoke once more. A single, simple statement, projected into her mind with staggering force.

_If you let him... Bison will take all of this away from you again._

Her heart nearly stopped, a vision of her previous life filling her for just a single second. Her breath shuddered in and out, in and out, her hands suddenly trembling. Slowly, she got to her feet and turned. Far below her, she could see fighting. The Interpol Inspector. And...

Bison.

Before she consciously knew it, she was running. Her footfalls rang out against the catwalk, as she raced along it as though she were possessed.

Eventually, the metal bridge split up ahead into a T-junction, still short of the battle below. Without hesitation she ran right up to the edge, planting her foot on the railing and launching herself out into space with a mighty leap.

She shot through the air like a bullet, angling upward to hit the ceiling of the cavern, directly over the combatants below. Coiling herself there, she exploded straight downward, down toward the man who had enslaved her, down toward the man who had tried to kill the other Dolls, down toward the man who she now hated and feared more than any other.

* * *

Bison watched as Chun-li maneuvered warily for position, a grimace of annoyance crossing his features. The Interpol agent was on the defensive, keeping her distance, looking for an opening that would never come. She had not yet gotten even _close_ to outmaneuvering his teleportation, or causing him any meaningful damage. She was no threat whatsoever.

And yet, the simple exercise of _killing_ her was proving to be uniquely frustrating, like trying to swat an extremely agile and persistent mosquito. He ground his teeth, wishing he could simply unleash an all-consuming blast of energy, like he had done against Gen. But he knew that doing so here, with all the surrounding equipment as a backstop, would likely be catastrophic in and of itself.

No, he would kill her by hand, if that was what it took. Indeed, he was already winning. He was wearing her down; he could see it in her eyes. Sooner or later she would make a mistake, and she would fall. The last of his enemies, dead at his feet...

And then suddenly, inexplicably, he sensed a threat coming at him from above. It seemed impossible. Who was left to oppose him? He craned his head to look up—and his eyes widened at what he saw.

Killer Bee—_his_ Killer Bee!—was hurtling down at him, accumulating an incredible velocity, killing intent written across her features. And for a moment, he simply stood there, completely flabbergasted.

But reflex took over, raw fury bubbling up inside him. He did not know what had caused this unthinkable betrayal, but he knew _exactly_ the price he meant to exact for it. Psycho Power flooded to his palm, charging there, even as the Doll hurtled at him, a perfect target. His lips curled into a sneer as he thrust his hand up at her—

—and then Chun-li was there, with a flash of blue speed, a fierce battle cry, and a jump kick that caught Bison in the wrist just as he was about to release the ki blast. It only moved his hand a little—but it was enough. The burst of energy shot up wide, barely missing Killer Bee.

And the next instant, the Doll struck. All the accumulated power of her dive was concentrated into a single kick that crashed down into Bison's skull. The sheer force drove him to the ground, slamming his head into the concrete floor with enough strength to send huge cracks spider-webbing out in every direction.

Nor was Killer Bee finished. She straddled the crime lord's fallen body, raining down punch after punch on him, tears running down her cheeks, screaming out words that were barely intelligible as _"Never! Never! Never! NEVER!"_

And then, as she swung down once more, Bison reached up and caught her fist in the palm of his hand.

She responded by swinging with the other one, but he caught that too. "Enough!" he roared, tucking one knee to his chest and driving his foot into the Doll's stomach, sending her flying away.

The madman rolled to his feet, clawing blood out of his eyes. Blood! The little vermin had made him _bleed!_ It was unthinkable! But she was out of the picture now, and all that remained was—

Bison froze, pure horror clawing at his stomach. He whirled to look at where Chun-li now stood—right next to the central column, the intermix chamber for his Psycho Drive. Her power was charged to its absolute, utmost breaking point, energy blazing between her palms, almost blinding in its intensity.

And then she unleashed it.

* * *

The instant that Killer Bee's kick had hit Bison, Chun-li had run past them both, knowing all too well that the only hope for victory lay in destroying Bison's machine. She had reached the glowing column in mere moments, and had immediately begun to channel her ki.

She felt it swell within her, and continued to gather all that she could, every last scrap. Soon, it felt as though her very blood was burning, but she continued to charge the attack, teeth gritted, sweat trickling down her brow.

Behind her, she could sense Killer Bee's defeat, and she knew she had only seconds left. This would have to be it. One way or another, it would all be decided. _Now._

Thrusting out her hands at the column, she released all the accumulated power, putting everything she had into the action. Every bit of training, willpower, rage, grief, hope or loss—everything into this last chance. She struck for Ryu's freedom, struck for Rose's mission, struck for Killer Bee's soul, struck for her father's memory. She struck, screaming the name of her technique in defiance of Bison and all that he stood for.

_"KIKOUSHOU!"_

The blast exploded out from her, a crashing wave of destruction that slammed into the transparent wall of the energy-filled chamber, shattering it completely.

And then everything went white.


	24. Reap the Whirlwind

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Street Fighter in any way, shape or form. It and all associated characters, trademarks, etc. are owned by Capcom. I'm just telling some stories about them.

* * *

Chapter Twenty-Four: Reap the Whirlwind

Thailand, March 17

"Chun-li."

The warm, quiet voice caused her to frown slightly, although she didn't know why. It wasn't out of worry—far from it. In fact, just hearing the voice filled her with a longing that was beyond her ability to describe.

She tried hard to see who had spoken, but couldn't quite manage it. A strange haze filled her mind; she couldn't tell where she was, or even if her eyes were open or not.

"Chun-li."

Then, in front of her, she was able to make out a hazy silhouette. Her heart leapt almost painfully in her chest—she _knew_ that outline, but her mind was too clouded to piece it together.

A hand stretched out to rest, gently but firmly, on her shoulder. "Chun-li," the figure said. "I'm very proud of you. I always have been. Never forget that."

Her eyes widened, the familiar touch at last breaking through the confusion. "Father?" she whispered, in a small voice.

But the silhouette was fading even as she spoke. Desperately she reached out for it, but her world was spinning, turning inside-out, losing all cohesion. Pain began to blossom through her, starting as a dull throb, but quickly exploding into an agony that flooded her entire body.

And still she heard her name being called out. The voice, however, was slowly shifting into that of another.

"Chun-li."

There was a rushing sound in her ears, the taste of copper in her mouth. She gritted her teeth, her combat instincts flaring to life. The voice... there was fear in it now. Pleading.

"Chun-li!"

Somewhere, someone was desperate for her help.

_"Chun-li!"_

Somewhere, she still had something left to do.

* * *

Pain hit her like a fist on waking fully. She made a sound that was halfway between a gasp and a moan, instinctively trying to curl herself up protectively. It didn't work; much of her body wasn't responding, and moving the parts that _were_ only increased her suffering to the point where she almost lost her tenuous grip on consciousness.

She bit her lip to keep from screaming, and quickly started a meditative technique designed to block out the pain signals from her mind. It helped, to an extent, making things manageable enough that she could feel other things. Such as the hand now gripping her shoulder.

It was Killer Bee. She was kneeling over Chun-li's prone form, a lost, frightened expression on her face. "Chun-li!" she said again. "Chun-li... you have to help me! There was the other voice, and then Lord Bison's voice was gone, and then the explosion, and now the other voice is gone too and I'm _all alone and I don't know what to do!_" The panic in the young girl's voice mounted as the words tumbled from her lips, reaching nearly hysterical levels by the end.

"It's all right..." Even in her tortured, half-conscious state, Chun-li managed to croak out some reassurance for the ex-Doll, mostly by instinct. "It's all right. You did good. It's going to be all right..."

Even as she spoke, she was trying to pull her thoughts back into some semblance of coherency. She tried to focus, to take each element of her surroundings piece by piece and construct it into the larger picture.

First, the alarms. They were blaring constantly, assaulting her ears with their howl. Then the lights. The normal lighting of the chamber had been replaced by lurid, pulsing red emergency lights, further underscoring the seriousness of the situation.

Then she turned her attention back to herself. She was lying on the ground, beside the crumpled remains of one of the innumerable pieces of equipment that filled the Drive Chamber. _The blast..._ Chun-li realized. _I was... right at ground zero when that central column exploded. The blast must have thrown me into that machinery._

It seemed that she had hit it with her right shoulder... and she realized with a sinking feeling that that shoulder had been thoroughly crushed. Her whole right arm was completely unresponsive. It also felt like she had broken several of her ribs, although she wasn't exactly sure how many. _This... isn't good._

Turning her head little by little, she managed to work her gaze across her surroundings. There, a long way off, stood the intermix chamber—or what was left of it. It was just a broken shell now, with occasional flashes of residual energy arcing around it.

Most of the consoles and equipment near the column had been wrecked by the blast. The ones that remained, however, were displaying messages in large, flashing text. Messages such as "CORE BREACH" and "OVERLOAD" and "CATASTROPHIC SYSTEM FAILURE."

Not to mention the ominous rumbling that she could feel slowly building all around them...

Chun-li turned back to Killer Bee. "Listen to me," she rasped. "You have to get out of here. Go up to the surface, and then get as far away from here as you can. Once you're safe, contact Interpol, and they can help..."

But she could see that none of her words were sinking in. Killer Bee simply stood there, shaking, eyes focused desperately on her. Chun-li sighed—a wet, labored exhalation. "All right. All right. One step at a time, then. Here, help me stand." Shakily, she extended her functional arm. Doing it this way would slow Killer Bee's escape, especially if Chun-li had to remain conscious while moving, but there seemed to be little choice.

The girl pulled Chun-li up, causing the policewoman's whole world to dissolve into a mass of blazing white agony. She wasn't sure how she avoided blacking out again, but somehow she managed it. At last, she found herself upright, her left arm draped over Killer Bee's shoulder as she leaned on her for support.

Together, the two of them began to hobble away, Chun-li directing. They made their way through the endless rows of equipment—some that were flashing alerts, some that had smoke pouring out of them, and some that flat-out detonated. But they continued on... until, without warning, they came to a stop, both of them frozen by what they saw.

He was standing at one of the relatively undamaged consoles, typing away at it madly. His uniform had been ripped and dirtied. His hat was no longer on his head, and his hair was disheveled. There was a frenzied quality to his movement, his gaze twitching back and forth along the panel before him.

"No..." Chun-li heard Bison say, in a voice that was halfway between a curse and a plea. "No, no, _no!_ Stabilize, damn you! _Stabilize!_"

His fingers continued to fly across the controls, but it was becoming increasingly apparent that whatever he was doing, it was having little effect. His frantic typing soon gave way to simply pounding on the panel—until his fist actually smashed through it. The lights on it flickered and died, leaving Bison alone with the ruined console.

_"No!"_ he howled, clawing at the lifeless controls in desperation. He looked wildly back and forth, obviously trying to find some way of staving off what was coming. "The reaction... going critical... half the systems shorted out... power levels off the charts... How do I bring it back under control? _How?_"

No answer seemed forthcoming. The crime lord continued his efforts, running from one bank of controls to the next... until suddenly, without warning, a thin arc of energy flickered out from the ruined central column, linking it and Bison for an instant.

That stopped him cold, his face somehow growing even paler. "No..." he whispered, his voice barely audible. Then louder: "_No!_ The overload... and I... _I'm still connected to the power feed!_"

Even more terrified than before, he resumed his frenzied attempts to salvage the situation... but within seconds, another arc of power flashed through the air, stronger than the previous one. Bison was jerking violently now as each of the discharges hit, each one disrupting his efforts to a greater extent. His breath was coming in gasps, his movements becoming less and less reasoned, more and more blind flailing.

Soon, the individual discharges had melded into a continuous stream of energy, a raging uncontrolled current that engulfed Bison's body as the Psycho Drive poured its out-of-control power into him. He began to scream, thrashing about, caught in the death throes of his own infernal machine.

The intensity of the energy discharge, now nearly-blinding, forced Chun-li and Killer Bee to flinch away a little. But still they remained transfixed, unable to turn away from the sight of the man whose shadow had dominated both their lives for so very long.

Then, finally, Chun-li spoke. "Let's go," she said quietly. "We need to get out of here."

* * *

Chun-li didn't know if there was a stairway access leading back up, but it was irrelevant—in her condition, it would have been impossible. The two young women were forced to rely on the elevators, and pray that there would be no catastrophic failures, even as everything else was falling apart around them.

They took a series of cage lifts to reach the elevator they had come down on, making their way across the now-shuddering catwalk while dislodged chunks of rock and machinery rained down from above. But they arrived without further damage, Chun-li fairly collapsing against the elevator walls as they stumbled back inside. Killer Bee hit the button, and soon the policewoman felt herself accelerating upward.

The ride up was much rougher than the ride down, although Chun-li was uncertain how much of that was the shaking of the car, and how much was her own unsteadiness. Time blurred in her mind, and she couldn't have said how long it was before the doors opened, revealing the hallway beyond, lit with the same red emergency lighting as the Drive Chamber had been.

Step by step, they walked out, Killer Bee still supporting the other woman. "Rose..." Chun-li coughed as they walked. "We need to find Rose..."

Killer Bee nodded. Fortunately, Chun-li could feel Rose's presence—weak but alive—and the two of them headed directly toward her.

When they reached her, she was unconscious, lying in the wreckage created by what had doubtless been a terrible battle. The policewoman gestured toward her, and Killer Bee obliged by lowering them to kneel next to the woman.

"Rose..." With her functional arm, Chun-li began to shake the woman. "Come on, Rose, wake up. We could _really_ use your bag of tricks right now..."

There was no response for a few seconds, but then with a groan, Rose's eyes fluttered open. Disorientation claimed her at first, but soon she focused on Chun-li. "Inspector..." she said, in the voice of one who barely dares hope. "Did... you...?"

"It's done," the policewoman answered crisply. "Bison is... finished. Now we need to concentrate on getting out of here before the whole place blows sky-high."

At the words, a wave of conflicting emotions flooded across Rose's face. Shock was there. Stunned disbelief as well... yet at the same time, a yearning to believe so raw that it almost hurt to look at. And there were other emotions there as well, deeper, more clouded ones that Chun-li could not even begin to identify.

"It's... over?" the woman whispered at last—hesitantly, as though it were so fragile that speaking it aloud would cause it to come undone. "After all these years... it's finally _over?_"

"Yes," said Chun-li. "But I need you to focus on the _now_. Can you move?"

Rose strained briefly, trying to sit up, but almost immediately slumped back down. "That... may not be possible."

Chun-li winced. She had been afraid of that. "Is there anything else you can do?"

"Little, in my present condition..." the other woman replied. "Except... perhaps..." Shakily, she reached out with one of her hands, a soft purple glow forming around it. As it touched her, Chun-li felt the pain slowly begin to diminish, her head clearing a bit as Rose's power did its work.

"The broken bones... would take far longer to fully mend than we have available," Rose told her. "But I think I can heal enough to aid our escape."

Indeed, Chun-li was feeling noticeably better already. She turned to Killer Bee. "Then you carry Rose," she said. "And I'll make it out on my own power."

Killer Bee nodded obediently, watching Rose's healing with wide, curious eyes. The colorfully dressed woman continued with her task...

...but then suddenly broke off, her eyes widening in fear. "What—?" she breathed.

A moment later, Chun-li sensed it too. An overwhelming swell of power, surging up at them from below. "The explosion?" she asked, afraid that the delay had doomed them all.

Rose shook her head desperately. "No!" she said. "It's—"

A huge shockwave burst out from the direction of the elevator shaft, smashing everything it touched. Walls shattered, the floor was ripped up, debris hurled everywhere. Killer Bee grabbed the other two women, dragging them down the hall at a run to get as far away as possible. Then the blast caught them, flinging them even further until they rolled to a stop.

Her head swimming, Chun-li pulled herself up to a kneeling position, looking around. Rose was out cold once more, while Killer Bee was already up in a crouch. The policewoman then turned back to look across the devastation, at the figure levitating at the source of it.

It was Bison—but it was barely recognizable as him. The unimaginable power of the overloading Psycho Drive was still pouring into him, wreathing his body, causing him to convulse as he floated erratically toward them. And yet, somehow, he had managed to bring the energy under some semblance of control.

As he drew nearer, Chun-li saw that his body, once broad-shouldered and muscular, was now a wasted shadow of its former self. Through the wild, cascading flashes of energy she caught a glimpse of a faint shimmer in the air, and realized immediately what was happening. _The power... It's boiling his flesh..._

But still the madman closed. _"...kill... you..."_ he managed to grind out, his words barely intelligible as speech. _"...kill you ALL!"_

Exhaustedly, Chun-li wracked her mind, trying to come up with some kind of plan, some kind of counter. But she found herself completely empty. If Bison had been invincible before, he had far surpassed that now. The power of his mere aura crushed down on her, made it impossible for her to even attempt an attack. Even had she been at full strength, she had nothing that could so much as penetrate it, to say nothing of harming the creature himself.

Gritting her teeth, she pulled herself to her feet, standing before the power-consumed abomination. She raised her head, looking him straight in the eye, without flinching. "It doesn't matter," she told him quietly. "It doesn't matter if you kill me. You've lost. After this day, you'll never hurt anyone else again. And that means I win."

If what little remained of Bison heard her words, he gave no sign. He let out a bestial howl, gathering himself to loose his overwhelming power on them—

—and then he froze, eyes widening in shock as he stared at Chun-li.

The policewoman blinked, unable to understand why he had halted in his murderous fury. But then, looking closer at him, she realized that in fact, he _wasn't_ staring at her.

He was staring at something directly _behind_ her.

Slowly, she turned to look over her shoulder, the alarm klaxons echoing in her ears, reminding her of all the failing systems across the Shadowlaw base. Systems... like the one Bison had been using to keep Ryu in check.

And there he stood, hands clenched, an equal distance behind Chun-li as Bison was in front. The red emergency lighting cast stark shadows across his face, as he glared at the crime lord. The raw menace in his gaze was palpable, and it had stopped even the madman in his tracks.

Slowly, Ryu began to walk forward. He passed by Rose's prone form, passed by Killer Bee, passed by Chun-li, all without saying a word. Only when he stood between them and Bison did he pause, his voice tight, but strangely calm.

"Go. Quickly." He didn't turn to face them as he spoke, keeping his eyes focused straight ahead on Bison. "I'll hold him here."

Chun-li opened her mouth to speak... but nothing came out. There were countless things that she could say, countless things that she _had_ to say, and no time to say even a fraction. She tried, somehow, to put voice to them, even while searching frantically for a way—_any_ way—to avoid this. But none of it was successful, all of her efforts sticking painfully into a single lump in her throat.

Perhaps sensing this, Ryu spoke again. "It's all right. This was always the plan—that the two monsters would fall together. This is the fight I came here for."

He took a deep, shuddering breath. "So... thank you. Because I wouldn't have lasted this long... if it hadn't been for you."

"Ryu..." her voice was soft, barely audible over the alarms.

"Please. Go." The words were rasped out, Ryu's clenched fists beginning to tremble. Then he whirled to look over his shoulder at her, with eyes that were now glowing blood-red. _"Go!"_

But the moment he broke his staring contest with Bison, the madman made his move. Channeling an unbelievable surge of Psycho Power into his hand, he aimed it in their direction with a look of hatred.

Before Chun-li could even begin to react, Ryu was hurtling toward him in a blur of speed. He grabbed Bison's hand with both of his own, wrenching it up and away at the last moment. The madman's attack shot out wide, the devastating energy ripping through the air. Even the near _miss_ was enough to hurl Chun-li and Killer Bee painfully to the ground.

Ignoring her body's screaming protests, the policewoman raised her head, her breath catching in her throat at what she saw. Bison loomed angrily above Ryu, surrounded by a maelstrom of energy greater than any mortal should have been able to wield. It was like something out of a nightmare. Before a being such as that, they all seemed like insects waiting to be brushed away by a wave of his hand.

And then Ryu unleashed his full power.

Chun-li had watched the tape of what he had done to the island. She had witnessed—from a distance—the effects of his fight at the warehouse. She had seen him tearing through Bison's army, using only a fraction of his strength.

But now, for the first time, she experienced the true might of Ryu's Satsui no Hado.

His aura exploded around him in a raging torrent, impossibly focused. It crashed into Bison's own aura, the energies meeting with a cataclysmic detonation. Chun-li twisted her eyes away from the near-blinding flash, then a moment later she felt the shockwave crash over her prone body, battering her. It was several seconds before her gaze returned to the scene in front of her.

As before, Ryu stood facing Bison. But now soul-crushing power was radiating from him as well, the earth trembling beneath his feet, his body enshrouded by dark fire. And there, glowing red on his back as though drawn by an invisible hand, was a single Japanese character. _Metsu._

Destruction.

Bison raised his hand, as though to try the attack again. But he never even got the chance. There was no tracking Ryu's movements now. One instant he was staring Bison down... the next he was directly behind the madman, driving an elbow into the back of his head. The blow smashed Bison forward—and then Ryu was in front of him, meeting Bison's face with a vicious kick.

The young warrior followed that by grabbing his foe by the throat and hurling him to the ground. Then, gathering his ki between his palms, he launched a Hadoken straight downward, the force of the blast ripping a huge crater into the earth, with Bison's body at the center.

But even as the madman was being crushed by the ki blast, his hand shot out and grabbed Ryu by the ankle. He then swung the young man bodily over his head, and smashed him into the ground. Immediately Ryu rolled, propelling himself up off the floor with his palms and swinging around his other leg into the side of Bison's head.

Continuing his momentum, he began to spin in midair, battering the crime lord over and over again with a Tatsumakisenpukyaku. Then, coming out of the technique, he twisted in midair to swing a devastating punch down on Bison from above, sending him to the ground again.

Meanwhile, Chun-li had struggled back to her feet. Her eyes were fastened on the fight—fastened on Ryu, as the young man attacked Bison with murderous fury. Sacrificing everything that he was, for one last chance to make a difference. To allow them to escape.

Steeling herself, she turned to Killer Bee. "Come on," she said, her voice rough. "There's nothing we can do here."

Killer Bee nodded, lifting the unconscious Rose and draping her over her back. Then the two of them began to run. Even with Rose's healing, the action was excruciating for Chun-li, but she kept up the pace by sheer force of will.

Behind her, she could hear the crashes and explosions, could feel the ground shudder beneath her feet with each blow as the two titans battled. But she kept on running, relying on the cold, professional part of her to keep herself going. Trying not to think. Trying not to feel.

At last, the three of them reached a corner. Killer Bee—a few steps ahead—rounded it first, and Chun-li was about to do likewise. But she hesitated for a moment, taking one last look over her shoulder.

The two combatants were pounding away at each other, neither showing any signs of weariness. Their power raged as they fought, surrounding them in a writhing, blazing inferno. Unheeding of all else, they slammed into each other again and again, locked together in their inhuman struggle.

_"Chun-li!"_

The policewoman turned to see that Killer Bee had stopped her own flight, and was looking back at her pleadingly. Taking a deep breath, Chun-li rounded the corner, and began to run once more.

The corridors flew by, the urgency of their situation underscored by the constant alarms. Chun-li let Killer Bee lead, with occasional promptings and reassurance for the young ex-Doll. They raced through hallway after hallway, occasionally passing the crumpled bodies of Bison's soldiers that Ryu had killed.

Finally, they reached a stairwell. Chun-li paused for a moment at the bottom, leaning heavily against the railing as she clutched at her side with her uninjured arm, each breath a lance of pure pain. But then, gathering herself, she began her ascent.

A few flights later they had gone as high as they could go, and exited the stairway into another, much wider hallway. At the far end of it they could see a huge blast door—or rather, the crumpled remains of one. Evidently, this had been where Ryu made his entrance to the base.

Without slowing their pace, they charged down the hallway and sped through the doors. They emerged in the middle of a clearing, the forest on every side, corpses strewn all over the ground nearby. Killer Bee paused, but Chun-li urged her on with only one word. _"Run!"_

And they ran. Through the trees, through the underbrush, running straight ahead. Chun-li had no way of knowing if they had run far enough, or even how far that was. It left her with no choice but to run on, despite her body pleading for a rest, an end to the torture she was putting it through.

Killer Bee was pulling far ahead now. The girl looked back, only for Chun-li to make a flailing gesture shoving her away. _"Keep going!"_ she croaked out. "Fast... as you can...!"

How long that went on, it was impossible to say. Time, distance, thought, all sunk into one horrible blur of pain. Only one concept held purchase in her mind. _Run. Run. Run._

And then, without warning, there came a sound like distant thunder, rumbling up from deep under the earth. It grew in volume—grew and grew and grew, until it was an almost-deafening roar, hurtling toward Chun-li. Unstoppable. Unavoidable. Before she could consciously process it, she felt an invisible wall strike her from behind, flinging her through the air.

Consciousness fled before she landed.

* * *

When, at last, she woke, it was a much different experience than the previous time. Awareness returned to her slowly, seeping into the jet-black void of nothingness and replacing it. There were no alarms, nothing to rush her, only the whisper of wind across her face and the sensation of grass tickling her cheek.

Eventually, she regained enough presence of mind to blink her eyes open. Light stabbed unpleasantly into them, forcing her to squint. For several seconds she simply lay there, fragments of her memories trying to collect themselves amidst the quiet peace.

She tried to move, and was rewarded by pain lancing through her—but less than she might have expected. Slowly, she worked her way up to a sitting position and began to take in her surroundings. Beginning with the woman sitting propped up against the tree across from her.

"Rose."

The older woman looked up at the sound of her name. Her face was pale; she looked more drained than anyone Chun-li had ever seen, but she gave the policewoman a small smile regardless. "Inspector... So good to see that you are with us once more."

Slowly, with meticulous care, Chun-li looked from side to side. They were still in the forest, with trees around them on every side. Off to her right, she saw Killer Bee sitting on the ground as well, looking confused and lost, but with a tiny glimmer in her eyes as well, of something that could almost be called "hope."

She turned back to Rose. "The Shadowlaw base..." she said, her throat feeling painfully dry. "Bison... Gone?"

"I assume so," was Rose's reply. "If the Psycho Drive truly overloaded, then I cannot imagine that anything remains. But I have not confirmed it. My attention has been occupied healing as much of our wounds as I was able."

Chun-li licked her lips, mulling over the woman's words. Then, with a grimace, she began to push herself to her feet. "Which way is it?"

"Inspector!" Rose's voice was startled. "I appreciate your confidence in my abilities, but I assure you that you are still far from healed!"

But the policewoman shook her head. "I have to see it, Rose," she said, with a tiredness that was more than just physical. "I have to _know_. Which way?"

The two women matched gazes for several seconds... and then Rose sighed, nodding. Without further words, she raised her hand and pointed off to Chun-li's left.

"Thank you." With that, Chun-li turned and began to limp in the indicated direction.

She took her time, moving slowly through the trees. Even so, eventually the other two women were lost from sight, and she found herself alone. The tranquil, dream-like quiet of the place was strange after the violent chaos that she had emerged from—strange, alien... but welcome. It soothed her like a balm, calming her frayed nerves and offering a measure of rest for her soul.

The forest passed slowly by, and after a while she began to notice blemishes in its beauty. Trees that had been uprooted, vegetation destroyed. _Damage from the blast,_ she realized. _I'm getting close._

And she was right. Soon, she emerged from the remaining scraps of the forest, and stood on the edge of what she had come to see.

It was a crater. So huge and deep that it boggled her sense of perspective, it stretched out before her, an expanse of blasted stone gouged into the face of the earth. All that remained of Bison's headquarters.

Slowly, she sank to the ground, the full weight of all that had happened beginning to settle on her. Her breath shuddered in and out, as images began to flood her mind, intertwining one with another.

Images of all the pain and suffering that she had seen Shadowlaw cause in the world.

Images of every Interpol agent she had ever lost in the battle against it.

Images of Master Gen, his body lying broken on the ground.

Images of Ryu, making his final stand.

Images of her father.

She pulled her knees to her chest, her shoulders beginning to shake, as she sat there on the edge of the crater. A crater that served as a visible reminder of all the misery that Bison had wrought for so many people... and as a sign that at last, it had finally come to an end.

Curling herself up as tightly as she could, Chun-li buried her face into her arms and began to sob, the tears streaming freely down her cheeks.


	25. Aftermath

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Street Fighter in any way, shape or form. It and all associated characters, trademarks, etc. are owned by Capcom. I'm just telling some stories about them.

* * *

Chapter Twenty-Five: Aftermath

Japan, March 26

The large room had not been built with the intention of serving as a medical area, but as far as Chun-li could see, it had been repurposed quite effectively. It stretched out before her, complete with all manner of equipment, most of it grouped in clusters around the twelve beds that the room contained.

"Originally we had them all in separate operating rooms," remarked the doctor who was acting as her guide. "But as they started to recover and regain consciousness, we started to have problems with... emotional instabilities. Putting them together like this ended up doing more to keep them calm than anything else we tried."

Chun-li's gaze traveled across the beds dwelling on the slender forms of the girls lying on them. Frowning, she tried to reconcile the vulnerable-looking children wrapped in hospital gowns with the ruthless killing machines in Shadowlaw combat fatigues that she had faced off against on more than one occasion. She shook her head, sickened once more by the depths that Bison's depravity had reached. "How are they doing?"

"Physically?" the doctor asked. "I've never in my life seen such fast healing. It's... actually quite unnerving, to be honest. In any case, I'm predicting full recoveries for all of them."

"And mentally?"

The doctor shrugged uncomfortably. "That seems like more of a mixed bag. They've been released from Bison's control, but their reactions to their freedom have been wildly different. Some of them have taken to it fairly well, but some of them... well, some of them have had a more traumatic time adjusting."

Chun-li nodded. "What's the prognosis there?"

"Not really my field. I'm only qualified to patch up their bodies." Then the doctor glanced out across the room. "But... if you want my gut feeling? I'd give _anyone_ decent odds if they had someone like her pulling for them as hard as she is." He pointed as he spoke.

The policewoman looked in that direction as well, to where Cammy was standing vigil at the bedside of one of the former Dolls, holding the girl's hand in her own. "I agree..." Chun-li murmured, then moved out into the room toward them.

Cammy looked up as she drew near. "Chun-li!" she said. "You're back!"

"The presentation to the General Secretariat in France took less time than I expected," explained the Interpol agent, as she came over to stand next to Cammy. "I was able to grab a red-eye flight and get back here a day early. How is she doing?"

They both looked down at the girl on the bed. Chun-li recognized her as the one called Enero, with long, curly pink hair. "She's still having the nightmares," Cammy said with a look of shame, as though she held herself in some way responsible for that. "And the fits when she's awake. But... I think they're not as bad now, just a little."

"That's good." Chun-li laid a hand on Cammy's shoulder. "It's very noble, what you're doing for them."

Cammy looked away for a few moments, then looked back at the policewoman. "I... don't really think so..." she said falteringly. "It's just... they're my..."

Her voice trailed off into silence. Chun-li nodded sympathetically, wondering which word came closest to expressing the connection that the girl was unable to describe. _Her team? Her friends? Her sisters?_

But in the end, Chun-li knew that whatever bond it was that linked the girls together, it was something an outsider would never truly understand. The best she could do was to offer her support—which she did, standing next to Cammy in silent hope for her comrades.

* * *

It was some time before Chun-li left, but eventually she was forced to excuse herself. Exiting the room, she walked out into the hallway beyond.

She strode onward, passing by numerous guards as she went—Interpol agents, charged with protecting the patients from attempts on their lives. Patients like the Dolls... and one other.

Chun-li paused, halting in front of one of the other doors, glancing through its window into the much smaller operating room on the other side. There were five men in there—four wearing suits, clustered around the bed that the fifth man was laying in. Even in his prone position, though, Sagat still seemed to dwarf the agents questioning him.

Here, as well, there were guards stationed outside the door. These, however, were looking just a bit... awkward. Chun-li guessed that it was a result of the "incident" that had taken place earlier in the week while she had been giving her report in France.

From what she had been told, after several rushed, ineffectual attempts at assassinating Sagat and the Dolls, the bickering, divided remnants of Shadowlaw had finally brought in one of their few remaining heavy hitters—a muscle-bound, chain-wielding fighter named Birdie. The attack, when it came, was timed well, when Cammy had been called out of the building for a debriefing session. And, through a combination of skill and a fair bit of luck, Birdie had managed to break through the remaining defense setup, making it all the way to the secure area.

At that point, Interpol had nothing left with a chance of stopping him. The guards had been reduced to a hopeless defensive action as he smashed through them left and right.

It was then that Sagat—with one arm and _both_ legs broken—had launched himself out of his room in a surprise attack, brutally incapacitating the Shadowlaw agent before Birdie even realized what had hit him.

The Interpol agents had been grateful for the rescue, of course. Even so, there was still something a little terrifying about being around someone who could do something like that. At the very least, it raised uncomfortable questions about just who was guarding who.

Chun-li looked into the room, watching as the Muay Thai master indicated various points on a map. She had been surprised when—on her return from the Shadowlaw base—she had been informed that it was Sagat who had provided Ryu with its location. She had been _very_ surprised when she heard that he had freely offered everything else he knew about the remaining Shadowlaw operations. There had been no demand for a deal, no mention of a plea bargain. Just the straightforward disclosure of everything he knew about the organization.

And apparently, since most of his active duties had been to accompany Bison himself as a sort of honor guard, he actually knew _quite_ a bit. Working off his information, they had already pinpointed over a dozen operations that they had been trying to crack for years, and exposed almost twice that many traitors in various governments and organizations. Killing Bison had cut off Shadowlaw's head, and now with Sagat's help, they were poised to grind the body under their feet.

Inside the room, Sagat suddenly glanced away from the map, looking out at Chun-li. Their gazes locked for a moment, measuring each other, each warrior trying to peer into the other's soul.

Chun-li didn't really know what Sagat was looking for in her eyes... but apparently he found it. The Muay Thai master's mouth quirked upward in a tiny, satisfied smile, and he nodded once at her, before returning his attention to the map.

The policewoman watched him for just a few seconds longer. Then, turning, she continued on her way.

* * *

Exiting the building, Chun-li stepped out into the afternoon sunlight and took a deep breath, allowing all her thoughts and worries and regrets to simply slip away for a few seconds. It was rejuvenating, something she always needed in her line of work.

"Ah, Inspector. Just in time."

The policewoman turned to see Rose standing off a ways, watching her. "I do try to keep my appointments," the policewoman replied mildly. "Even when I haven't been told what the appointment is about."

"Indeed..." The colorfully dressed woman smiled, then gestured with her hand. "Would you mind walking with me? There is a question I would like to ask you before we reach our destination."

Chun-li nodded, and fell into step beside Rose, walking through the city streets. For several minutes they walked in silence, before the older woman finally spoke. "My... history with Bison is... was... a very long and complicated one..." she told Chun-li. "My struggle against him has taken many forms over many, many years. And now, at its end, I find myself... lost. Utterly so."

A soft half-chuckle escaped her lips, as her gaze drifted across the city before them. "In all honesty, I never expected to find myself in this position. I was always certain that this battle would result in my destruction, in the end. The best destiny I ever hoped for was to take Bison down with me." She shook her head sadly. "Destiny, it seems, is capable of strange tricks."

The policewoman said nothing, and they walked on for a while longer without speaking. Then Rose sighed. "And so, thanks to the intervention of others, I have emerged from this struggle with... a life, one that I never dared plan for. The question then becomes... what should I do with it?"

Chun-li shrugged. "I don't know Rose. I mean, for someone like you, the possibilities are immense. You can do things that even I had never realized were possible."

"I can..." agreed Rose. "But not, I am beginning to suspect, for much longer. Bison and I were... linked, Inspector. Since his destruction, I have found it becoming harder and harder to draw on my full abilities. In time, I believe they may fade away completely."

"I'm sorry to hear that..."

Rose gave a gentle smile. "I am not. There are extremes of power that are unfitting to be under any one human's control, and I will be more than content not to bear that burden any longer." Then she hesitated. "But before that happens... there is one last thing I need to do. Hence today's excursion."

"I see..." Chun-li said. "So just where _are_ you taking us, anyway?"

Rose looked ahead. "To make a payment on a debt."

* * *

Blackness.

There was blackness everywhere, a consuming, empty void of noiseless sound, of fear and unreason. And she was in the center of it—wrapped, chained on all sides. No time seemed to pass in that place, everything caught in that one frozen eternity of pain and cold.

_Poor child. Your wound must have been grievous indeed for you to have retreated this far into yourself._

The voice startled her, breaking into the chaos without any warning, and carrying with it _warmth_. It frightened her; she could barely remember what warmth was, and it seemed as though it might consume her.

_You must not shrink back. The transition will be painful... but less so than remaining here. It is time that you found the way back. Let my voice guide you. Fear not the darkness._

She didn't fully understand everything the voice was saying, but enough of it carried through. Her fear was still there, but rising up alongside it was a stubbornness, a desire to fight back.

_Yes. Determination. Very good._

She tried, instinctively, to reach out for the voice, clawing toward it, kicking toward it, with hands and legs she couldn't feel. The closer she got, the more frantic her efforts became, like a swimmer trying to reach the surface for a gasp of precious air.

_You are almost there. Just a little bit more..._

And she knew she was almost there, even without the voice telling her. She could _feel_ something other than the cold. A light, a sound, a touch, a taste, clearer every second, but still maddeningly out of reach.

If she could just get a little closer!

There was a rumbling sound in her ears now, a feeling of vertigo. She was rocketing upward, hurtling toward something.

Something _bright_...

* * *

With a gasp and a thrashing of her arms, she flung herself up from the bed into a sitting position. Everything spun in crazy circles around her, a kaleidoscope of light and sound. Immediately she flopped back down onto the bed, trying not to be violently ill.

_"Sakura!"_ Before she had even begun to adjust to what had happened, she felt arms wrapping around her in a crushing embrace.

She blinked, her eyes heavy and gritty. "M- mom...?" she asked, still trying to pull things together into some kind of coherent picture.

She... was in some kind of hospital bed, her mother's arms wrapped around her while the woman sobbed hysterically. Hovering just behind her was Sakura's father, the normally-taciturn man looking as though he would join his wife's display in a heartbeat if there had been enough space.

Mystified, the young girl eventually realized that there were two other people in the room, further back. One was a Chinese-looking woman, dressed in a flowing blue _quipao_. The other was even more obviously foreign, an exotic-looking woman with purple hair and an outlandish, multi-colored outfit.

"Wh- what's going on?" asked Sakura, beginning to get worried. "Why are you acting like this, mom? And what am I doing here?

Her parents didn't seem quite able to answer the question yet, but the Chinese woman stepped in closer, a troubled frown on her face. "Sakura..." she said. "What's the last thing that you remember?"

Sakura opened her mouth to reply... and then froze, eyes losing focus as she struggled to find the answer to the question. "I'm... not sure," she said at last. "It's all just so... jumbled. Some little, normal things I remember here and there... but they're all... out of place. And I don't remember _anything_ about how I got here..."

The two strange women exchanged glances, and the one with the purple hair nodded. "With psychic trauma such as she sustained, memory loss is not at all uncommon. Particularly with respect to things connected to the trauma. However, with my abilities, restoring those memories should be quite—"

"—_quite_ unnecessary." The interjection from Sakura's father was firm and without hesitation. "If her experiences were anything like what you described to me, then she has absolutely _no_ need to remember any of that."

Sakura cocked her head, puzzled. Meanwhile, the Chinese woman's frown had deepened a little. "Mr. Kasugano..." she said slowly. "I certainly understand your desire not to cause your daughter unnecessary pain." She hesitated. "But please, consider... there _are_ some things that ought to be remembered. There are some things that... _deserve_ to be remembered. Even painful things, sometimes."

"I don't care!" Now Sakura's mother had raised her head, tear trails still staining her face. "Hasn't she been through enough already? I _won't_ have her suffering any more because of this... and I don't want to hear another word about it!"

Sakura could see that the Chinese woman was not altogether happy about the choice, her eyes showing a strange, frustrated sadness. But she nodded. "If that is your decision, Mrs. Kasugano," she replied, "then we will, of course, abide by it."

A strained, awkward silence descended on the room, until at last the Chinese woman gave a short bow. "If you'll excuse me..." she said. And with that, she turned to head toward the door, the foreign woman following.

Frowning in concentration, Sakura tried once again to search her fractured recollections for some clue as to what all this was about. As before, she came up with nothing—just senseless gaps filled with chaos and static.

Except...

"Um, actually..." she began, causing both women to pause in their exit, all eyes focusing on her. "Actually... I do remember something, just a little bit. There was a..." she hesitated. "A... man. He wasn't very old, and he was dressed in a... a karate uniform, I think. And he was also wearing a... red headband?" She paused, looking around for confirmation. "Am I remembering right?"

She met the Chinese woman's eyes, noticing that the frustration had drained out of them now, leaving only the sadness. "Yes," the woman answered quietly. "You're remembering right."

"Who... was he?"

The Chinese woman hesitated, her gaze flickering involuntarily over to Sakura's parents for a moment, before finally replying. "His name was Ryu," she said. "He saved your life, once. It cost him... everything."

With that, they left the room. Sakura watched them go, wondering even more just what exactly had happened in all the time that she had now lost.

Still, she knew enough to take one action, at least. Focusing on the single, blurry image of this... Ryu... that she still possessed, she tried her hardest to lock it into her memory.

* * *

Hours later, the sun was at last beginning to dip down below the horizon, the day almost at its end. Chun-li and Rose were seated on a bench near the shore, looking out over the sea, watching the sky burn with its blaze of reds and oranges.

They didn't talk much. Each of them had their own thoughts to mull over, and neither of them felt the need to fill the tranquil air with words. They simply sat there, together, wrapped in the newfound peace that had entered their lives... a peace that neither knew quite how to deal with yet.

Eventually, as the light continued to dim, Rose got to her feet. "Well..." she said quietly. "I suppose I should be off. I hope to meet you again someday, Inspector. I have been more grateful than I can express for your assistance... and for your companionship."

She began to walk off, only to be halted by Chun-li's voice. "Rose."

The woman turned back, as Chun-li got to her feet as well. "The question you asked me earlier... About what you should do with your life now." The policewoman paused, then went on. "I can't answer that for you. Not really. That's something you'll have to work out for yourself, out of who you are, or who you want to become. But there is one thing I can say."

Chun-li took a deep breath. "I don't know what it is, but there _is_ something out there for you, Rose. Whatever happens to your powers, or whatever your tie with Bison was in the past, there _is_ a way forward for you. It's just a matter of finding it."

Rose's eyes widened a little, and then she nodded. "Thank you," she said. "I think... I'm beginning to believe that myself."

Then Rose gave Chun-li a short bow, which the policewoman returned. And with that, the colorfully dressed woman walked away, eventually disappearing around a corner.

Chun-li was left alone, looking out across the shore, and it occurred to her to wonder what the way forward for _her_ was. Where did she go from here, now that Bison was gone, accomplishing the goal that she had built her whole life around?

She didn't know, exactly, but found that she had little anxiety over that fact. Those answers, she was confident, would come in time. For now, she simply listened to the mournful cries of the seagulls, watched as the last fleeting glimmers of the old day sank into the ocean, offering in their end the promise of a new dawn.


	26. Epilogue

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Street Fighter in any way, shape or form. It and all associated characters, trademarks, etc. are owned by Capcom. I'm just telling some stories about them.

* * *

Epilogue:

Antarctica, May 19

The gale-force winds howled across the face of the vast, icy plain, ripping up fallen snow and sending it screaming through the air, like countless tiny knives hurled at incredible velocity. The storm raged like a living thing, bent on scouring the surface of the most desolate wasteland known to man.

And the deadly winds only intensified the worst part—the unimaginable _cold_. The temperature alone could easily kill a man without the proper gear. It was the hallmark of that terrible climate, the true ruler of the frozen hell.

Visibility in the storm was almost non-existent. Everything had been reduced to a consuming whirlwind of white—not that there was anything to see in that barren place.

Except for the single, impassive figure standing in the midst of it.

The winds broke around him, pulling hard at the tattered _gi_ he wore, at the black belt tied around his waist, at the red headband tied around his forehead. If the cold bothered him, he gave no outward sign.

He had fully expected to die in the explosion that had destroyed Bison and his headquarters. It had been a blast of horrific power, something no human should have been able to withstand.

But then, "human" was perhaps not the best way to describe his capabilities anymore.

And so, he had found himself awakening—hurt, but alive—in the ruins of the Shadowlaw base. It had only been then that he had realized, with a sinking heart, just how far beyond his friends' ability to kill he had grown.

But somehow, he had summoned up the willpower to teleport himself here. Here, to this haven, the most isolated place on earth. The place where he would make his last stand against his bloodlust.

He did not know how it would end. Even cut off from the remotest shred of human contact, murderous desires still hounded his thoughts. It might be that he would fail in the end, and give into the dark urges. Or it might be that he would succeed in holding them at bay, living out the rest of his years in this self-imposed exile.

His eyes stared deep into the raging storm, as though trying to discern what future this frozen land had in store for him. Damnation? Death?

Or perhaps... even redemption?

With nothing else to do, he began to walk forward. Even as he did so the winds picked up, the icy tempest increasing in force, and soon he had vanished from sight completely.

_**~ fin ~**_


End file.
